All language subtitles for Homicide life on the street season 1 episode 1 to 9S03E07 - The Last Of The Watermen

- What are you doing?
- What's it look like?

Like you're defacing that tree
with Christmas decorations.

I almost got a hernia dragging this
in here.

To get here, I had to run a virtual gauntlet
of Christmas cheer.

Bargain-hungry shoppers,
mewling kids,

carols blasting from
diabolically hidden loudspeakers.

What kept me going was the thought

that once I reached my destination -
our sacred inner sanctum -

I'd find refuge from this yuletide delirium.

Here, hold this.

I'm not gonna let your attitude bother me.

This is Christmas Eve.
We've got the graveyard shift.

So why don't we lighten up and have fun?

I hate Christmas.

You're trying to get attention.
I know you. I wish I didn't, but I do.

What's this? A Christmas tree?

No, that's a palm tree
What's wrong with you people?

I hate Christmas because
you're supposed to feel happy.

If you don't,
you think something's wrong,

which makes you even unhappier!

More suicides are committed during
Christmas than any other time.

Christmas is when Jesus was born.
That was a miracle.

That's why we celebrate it.

- Why?
- We have to celebrate miracles.

How come they happened in the past?

- What?
- Name one miracle from your lifetime.

How about I haven't killed you yet?

- Odds or evens?
- Odds.

Merry Christmas. Homicide.

Merry Christmas.

Female. Late 20s.
100% third-degree burns.

She was torched.

We found this right over here.
Smells like kerosene.

Get me a print check on this.

- Who called it in?
- Anonymous.

It figures.

- Any ID on the body?
- Nothing. Everything was burned.

No rings, no earrings, no necklace,
no purse laying around?

- We're still looking.
- I've ordered up a dental exam.

- The neighbours see anryhing?
- What neighbours?

I can't believe we've gotta spend
Christmas Eve in this hole.

It's not so bad. It's kind of cosy.

Where would you be?

At home in Chesapeake,
seeing my family.

Or seeing an old friend.

Oh, yeah?

Male old friend, approximately your age,
ruggedly handsome?

- Bayliss, do you have a life?
- Not really. Not since Emma left.

- What the hell is that?
- I know. Don't ask.

- I like it.
- You would.

Ho, ho, ho, homicide.

Mm-hm.

Autographed baseball for Zack.
Mike Mussina. Zack's gonna love it.

You don't even know where they are.

How will you get presents to 'em?

I'll find 'em.
Sooner or later I'll find 'em.

Until then, I'll keep these presents,

so they'll know
I was thinking about them.

Stan, we've got a murder
on Eaton Place.

OK, all I'm saying is,
that you're a pessimist.

- Me, a pessimist?
- Yeah.

You always see the worst in things.

You don't leave room
for something good to happen.

Redemption. You don't believe
in anryhing.

- Sure I do.
- Yeah?

- Yeah.
- What?

I believe I'll be sitting at a bar
in Hong Kong,

and this incredibly attractive
and submissive woman

with an abiding interest in art
and existential philosophy

will say,
"Take me home and ravish me."

- You believe it?
- Yes, I do.

- You can't believe that.
- Why not?

It's never gonna happen.

All a beautiful women will say to you is,
"You're blocking the view."

Who's the pessimist around here, Stan?

Uh-oh! Rudolph's gonna be pissed.

Her name's Whitney Louise Freeman.

27. Caucasian. Last known address,
55, Pitcher Street.

Two counts of possession,
December '88, December '93.

Not a good month for her.

Also a witness in the murder trial
of Boots Chiggens.

She had good teeth.

What?

The girl.
Her teeth, they were perfect.

Good night, Meldrick.

Night.

- Scheiner?
- Yeah?

- I didn't know you were Jewish.
- I'm not.

What's with the Hebrew salutation?

I get a lot of bodies.
A lot of different backgrounds.

This time of the year,
I want every body to feel welcome.

Good night.

Stan, I hate to interrupt
your Christmas ecstasy,

but we got a dead Santa Claus.

I spoke to Mrs Buchowski.

Our Santa here is a Nicholas McGibney.

Kind of ironic, don't you think?

The name and all.
Nicholas, St Nick, Santa.

Who is this Mrs Buchowski?

She lives over here at number 11.

McGibney is the Salvation Army's
Santa Claus for the neighbourhood.

He has been for about eight years,
a yuletide regular.

He stood here by the fountain,

ring his bell and collect tributes
from the guilt ridden.

What's he doing
at the bottom of the fountain,

with six stab wounds?

Er... rebellious elves? Mutant reindeer?

Did Mrs Buchowski have any idea
where Santa might live?

He lives six blocks down this street.

There's a courtyard.
It's the house with the red door.

I want you to understand this.

No matter what comments you make
or what events befall us this evening,

it will not ruin my Christmas.

- Got it?
- Got it.

- Hey, Al.
- Hi, Megan.

Are you here on your off hour
to sing carols?

No, actually, I brought you
some Christmas cookies.

My daughter made them.

She puts some out with some milk.

Said she was staying up
waiting for Santa.

Ten minutes later, fast asleep.
Her grandparents are watching her.

We don't give gifts here, but thanks.
Thank Caroline for me.

I will. What are you doing?

I'm cleaning out our desk.

- That's your pile. That's my pile.
- What about this pile?

Undetermined.

- My pile?
- It's yours, right?

- No.
- Caroline's?

No.

Then whose is it?

That tree is pathetic.

Why did Stan get it?
We never get a Christmas tree.

We should finish decorating it.

Scraggly, that's the problem.

- Naked.
- It's got potential.

But I like the thicker ones.
The ones that are darker green.

What's the name?

A Christmas tree
is a Christmas tree, Tim.

- Anybody seen this watch before?
- No, sir.

How did it get in our drawer?

Where's Pitcher Street?

I think that's over in Highland Town,
near the Polish club.

No, no, no, it isn't.

It's that weird street behind the
warehouses on Halls Street.

The one that ends at the water.

Pitcher is exactly and precisely
three blocks west of Fleet and Conklin.

All of you born here in Baltimore, huh?

Pitcher, Pitcher?

Whitney Louise Freeman?

- Yeah.
- You know her?

She was supposed to testify against
this guy called Boots Chiggens

at his murder trial next week.

Here. You're all wrong.

Just as I suspected,
over by the Maryland institute.

I'm going with you.

Well, Chiggens was my case.

OK, well, Tambelli's,
but he's on vacation.

He's visiting his mother in Phoenix.
Come on.

Who is this Chiggens guy?

Crack dealer.

Killed a compatriot.

Territorial dispute.

Whitney Freeman came in one night,
said she saw the murder.

She was a mess.

She was a user.
She bought from Chiggens.

Maybe one of Chiggens' crew
lit up the Freeman girl?

- Didn't she have witness protection?
- She did.

- So, what happened?
- That's what we'll find out.

Lieutenant, I gotta tell you,

I feel kind of uncomfortable
going out with you.

Senior officer,
a woman senior officer.

- Why are you doing this for?
- I miss it, Meldrick.

You miss this? What?

Going out. It's an addiction.

Don't kid yourself about that.

Why would someone
wanna kill Santa Claus?

It's the collapse
of western civilisation, Stanley.

All received values
have lost their meaning.

Maybe nobody's home.

- What do you want?
- Baltimore Police. Open up.

I'm Detective Munch.
This is Detective Bolander.

Let me see your badges.

Is it OK if we come in?

How do I know they're not fake?

You'll have to take our word for it.

Let me see your driver's licence.

You have a very suspicious nature,
you know that?

- Is this Nicholas McGibney's home?
- Maybe.

- Is your mother home?
- No.

Look, either Nicholas McGibney
lives here or not.

Depends on your definition of live.

We're freezing out here.
Can we come in?

Let me see your driver's licence
and a major credit card.

We need a credit card to get in.
You charge for conversation?

- $5.
- $5.

- $5?
- This kid's getting on my nerves.

- Are you alone in there?
- Yeah.

Except for my killer dog, Lothar.

- Is Nicholas McGibney your dad?
- So what if he is?

- OK.
- Here you go.

Five dollars.

Each.

Stan, I'm short.

- Is this your mom?
- Yeah.

- Why wear dark glasses indoors?
- I have sensitive eyes.

- Where is she?
- Gone.

I think you're hiding something.

I got nothing to hide. Where did she go?

She left a long time ago.
I don't even remember her.

- Do you have any tattoos?
- Excuse me?

My dad does on his back.

Of Texas. He used to be a cowboy.

What's your name, kid?

- Fidel.
- Fidel?

- As in Fidel Castro?
- Who?

The kid's right. The place is empty.

His name is Fidel.

When did you see your father last?

This morning before he went to work.

He works for the Feds.
Dresses up in various disguises.

Keeps an eye on things.
Street crime - that kind of stuff.

Undercover work.
Every Christmas he's a Santa.

- So he left here about what time?
- After breakfast.

- He in trouble again?
- Trouble? What kind of trouble?

Where is he?

Where you going?

You stay here and keep Fidel company.
I'll contact the child welfare people.

- You're not sticking me with this.
- I'll be gone maybe five minutes.

I can't believe this is where
Whitney Freeman lived.

- Why not?
- Look at it. It's so fancy.

Yeah, well, you know...

I'm coming.

- Mrs Freeman?
- Yes.

Mrs Freeman, hi.
I'm... I'm Lieutenant Russert,

This is Detective Lewis.

We're from the Baltimore
Police Department. Homicide.

Would you like some eggnog?

Oh, no, thank you.

Well, come and see my beautiful tree.

I love this time of year, don't you?

All the treasures
come down from the attic.

Oh, oh!

My father made that tin horse
when he was eight.

Oh, and these beautiful
Victorian decorations,

that my sister and I hung
when we were little.

Are you sure you wouldn't like
some eggnog?

Francie makes the best eggnog
in Baltimore.

Her recipe is a closely guarded secret.

Mrs Freeman, we're here
about your daughter, Whitney.

I grew up in this house,
and so did my father.

His father built the house.

Did you know those lights out there
were gas lamps?

Your daughter is dead, Mrs Freeman.

I'm sorry.

- How did she die?
- She was burned to death.

- Burned to death?
- Yes.

Did Whitney live here?

She was always out of money.
It's hard to believe, isn't it?

Mrs Freeman...

...do you have any idea
who might have killed her?

We didn't speak much.

There was a policeman
assigned to watch her.

She managed... to get past him.

The man was an idiot, and he was rude.

I told him three times to wipe his
feet when he came into the house.

Oh, Jerome,
hang that red ball a little higher.

You can't hang balls
of the same colour all together.

A little to the left!

You have to spread them out.
Oh, Jerome! Really! Honestly!

Beau, wanna play some cards?

No, I'm lousy at cards.

Oh, come on. It'll help pass the time.

So, how about a game of... hearts, huh?

I don't want to hurt
your feelings or anryhing,

but being in this dump on Christmas
Eve with you, playing hearts,

is enough to make me wanna put
a bullet through my head.

OK. Fine. We won't play cards.

Although there's nothing like it
to take your mind off your troubles.

What do you know about my troubles?

Nothing. Sorry. I'm out of here.

No, Tim. I'm the one who
should apologise. Please, sit down.

Humour me. Tell me what you could
possibly know about my problems.

I would really like you to tell me,
Timmy boy.

I guess it must be hard.

Your wife having left and all.

I imagine you won't be spending
Christmas with your kids.

Beat it, Bayliss.

Hey, Kay.

Say... Do you like... cards?

- Christmas cards?
- No, card games.

Hearts in particular.

I've never played hearts.

I'm not very good at card games.
My mind wanders.

- OK. I understand.
- Good.

OK, Kay.

What are you so nervous about?

I'm not nervous,
I'm pacing thoughtfully.

You're nervous about something.

Look at the way
your eyebrows are twitching.

My eyebrows are not twitching!

They are. You're all kinda tense.
You've got a weird face.

Enough with the face jokes.

That's why I didn't think you were a cop.
You look like a bad guy.

What are you talking about?
I have a friendly, easy-goin visage.

I don't have a weird face.

Darkly handsome maybe,
but not weird.

- Will you tell me where my dad is?
- Well...

He ought to be home now.

Fidel, there's something

that is my sad responsibility
to have to tell you.

- What?
- It's about your dad?

What about him?

He's...

- He's an OK guy.
- You know him?

Not intimately,
but from around the street.

- You like him?
- Like him?

Well, I think he's got character.

- He plays a mean Santa Claus.
- Mean?

He's good at it.

- You've got a weird way of talking.
- Don't start, Fidel.

You're using all these weird words.

Like they were a cartoon
coming from your mouth,

and you're watching them thinking,
"I'm cool!"

Hey, Frank.

Mind if I sit down here?

Boy, oh, boy!

So, how you doing?

How's your Christmas Eve?

- I miss my wife.
- Mmm.

I miss my fireplace.

- I miss Nat King Cole.
- Oh, boy. Yeah.

Tell you the truth,

I'm a little bored too,
so I was just wondering...

- No.
- What?

- Forget about it.
- About what?

- Oh, forget about that.
- Mmm.

Well, then, I guess you've heard

about my interest in engaging
someone in hearts.

No, I intuited it,
because I am a master detective.

The answer's still no because...

Once, long ago,
when I was young and foolish,

I lost a lot of money in a card game.

You don't say.

I vowed that I'd never make
that mistake again.

I bet.

And I won't.

Well, who said anryhing about money?

There's more suicides at Christmas
than at any other time of year.

It's supposed to be a happy occasion.

- You missing Crosetti?
- Maybe. Yeah, I guess.

It's the first Noel
without the salami brain.

I'd go round his house.
I'd bring him vodka.

He'd give me cheap cigars.

We'd kick back with the family.

- Meldrick.
- This it?

But then, I don't know,
after he got divorced,

he just didn't want me around.

Police!

- Ma'am, we...
- Gun!

Give me that!
What's wrong with you?

- You got a permit?
- Can't afford no permit.

Well, consider it confiscated.

Is this the family residence
of Boots Chiggens?

- Yeah, I'm Danielle.
- Wife?

- Not officially.
- Excuse me.

We're from the Police Department,
homicide. Can we come in?

Is there someplace we can talk
that's more private?

This is as private as it gets.
You here about Boots?

Will you stop bothering your sister?
Stop it now.

You want something to eat? Mamma,
bring these people something to eat.

Look at 'em. Skinny. Both of 'em.

From chasin' the likes of Boots
in this city.

I'm not sayin' nothing negative.

He's crazy,
but the father of my children.

We're not asking you to.

- We wanna find out about his cohorts.
- What's that?

- His business associates.
- May they all rot in hell.

Don't mention those names here.

- We think one of Boots' friends...
- They ain't his friends!

Could tell us about
the people Boots worked with?

He kept me out of the work situation.

Keisha, put the top on the tree.
That's right.

Gee, I hope I'm not bothering you.
Listen, have you noticed

a lack of holiday spirit
out there tonight, hmm?

Let me show you something.

You see that?

People aren't exactly bubbling over
with mirth and fellow feeling.

Frankly, sir, morale is low.

It's like a morgue out there.

You should do something about it, sir,
because you're our leader.

- True.
- They respect you. We respect you.

Also true.

We respect and we admire you.
That's with good reason.

I think you should visit me more often,
Tim.

Don't be shy.

I may seem imposing,
intimidating, regal even,

but I'm not.

We have to lift their spirits, right?

I think I know what to do.
Yes, sir. Cards.

- Cards?
- Yes, sir. Hearts, specifically.

What kind of game is this hearts?

It's action-packed,
for a thinking man like yourself.

If they were to see you play, right?

Ah!

That would be a horse
of a whole different cloth.

I should set an example?

That's exactly what I mean.

Now, what I think we should do...

Just ante up a little bit of money,

Just to pique their curiosity.

I don't know, say $5 a hand.

What do you say?

The state's attorney lives here?

Sorry to bother you
on Christmas Eve, Ed.

I interviewed the Freeman girl once.

Her story kept changing.

It made me nervous.

Not the basic facts, but the details,

That's where you get killed.

So, what happens to your case
without Whitney Freeman's testimony?

It takes a nose dive.

She's the only thing we had
that wasn't circumstantial.

Boots Chiggens will walk.

That's what I call motivation. Thanks.

Yeah, but what about opportunity?
He's in jail.

When you interviewed
Freeman, did she mention anyone?

Friends?
Anyone she may have been scared of?

- I don't know. I'd need the file.
- So, where's the file?

At work of course.

Oh!

No.

No, not tonight.

Come on, guys. Give me a break.
I'm expecting company!

It's Christmas Eve for crying out loud!

I'll go get my coat.

- Ed's a very civilised guy.
- Yeah.

Oh, cool!

What do you mean he's not there yet?
Bolander. B-O-L-A-N...

This is Child Welfare, isn't it?

Can you have him call me
when he gets there? Thank you.

- You shouldn't be watching that.
- Why not?

I've seen more violence in 20 minutes,

than I have in my entire career
as a homicide detective.

You should've seen "Make My Night."

This guy cuts people's heads off,
then cooks them.

- He has these big dinner parties.
- Sounds great.

Do you see a lot of corpses and stuff?

Unfortunately, yes, I do.

Dad promised he wouldn't forget
this time.

- What do you mean forget?
- Sometimes he forgets.

- To come home?
- Yeah.

- It's not his fault. He's forgetful.
- You mean you live alone sometimes?

Mrs Massovitch upstairs
takes care of me.

Dad promised me
he'd be home for Christmas Eve.

He said we'd have fun.

He could have been
a homicide detective.

Better than you, any day.
He had other stuff to do.

Come on. Let's go.

- Where?
- I know where he'll be. Come on.

The sounder policy
would be to wait here

till my partner comes back
with more information.

When I was a Boy Scout,
they said don't wander too far.

Wait for the rescuers.

We're not lost. We're not in Boy Scouts.

- Come on.
- Fidel!

What?

Nothing.

- Don't let snow in the house.
- All right!

Come on!

Strange to see snow in Baltimore.

It's the result of a low-pressure
system moving up from the Gulf.

What? You're an amateur meteorologist?

I like weather.

What do you mean?
What kind of weather?

- All kinds of weather.
- AII...

That's like saying you like everything
which is meaningless.

No, I like the change of seasons.

It gives me a fresh attitude,
four times a year.

Yeah, well, I'm glad it's snowing...
for Christmas.

Caroline loves it.

I don't believe that it snowed
in Bethlehem.

They have winter in Israel.

- Get out of town!
- No!

It's a desert.
If it snowed, the camels would die.

Here's the report on the fingerprints
from the kerosene can.

One set, no record.
The other set made the bells ring.

Desmond Styles.

Yeah, it's right here on Danvers' list.

Convicted two counts of larceny.
One count disturbing the peace.

And distribution of crack cocaine.

- Thanks a lot.
- Merry Christmas, Jay.

Did you know in medieval Germany,

the fir tree was first used in
pageants celebrating Adam and Eve?

It was later that people brought them
into their homes

where they placed wafers on them.

The wafers representing... the host.
Redemption.

Of course.

What's going on in there
with Bayliss and Gee?

They had small wooden pyramids
with shelves.

They'd place their Christmas presents
in those.

By the 16th century, the fir tree

had merged into the Christmas tree

of which that is an unholy example.

Did Tim ask you
to play some card game?

Yeah, hearts.

Hey, he's in their playing cards
with Giardello.

What? Are they playing for money?

I can't tell.

- They're playing for money!
- I didn't know you could play for money.

- You can play anryhing for money.
- Oh.

- Oh.
- Oh?

Look, Fidel, I hate
bright, crowded, noisy places.

Get some earplugs. Close your eyes.

Hey, Sam. Seen Dad?

- Not since he went to work.
- When was that?

- I guess about six.
- How was he doing?

Same as usual, you know.

What do you mean "you know"?

- Who's he?
- A weirdo.

Quiet, Fidel. I'm a cop.

- Ha-ha!
- I'm serious. Zip it.

What is this code?

His dad's a boozer.
He tied a good one on this afternoon.

- He is not!
- With nose like W C Fields!

- You liar!
- Hold on, Fidel! Slow down!

I don't care
if your dad has a drinking problem.

Most of my best friends
have a drinking problem

You knew my dad.
Does he have a drinking problem?

His dad does not have
a drinking problem.

OK. Fine.

Wanna go hit some balls?

- I got a bum shoulder, a trick knee.
- It's fun.

My dad's really good at this.

He once went two hours straight,
not missing a ball.

A nice way to spend
Christmas Eve, huh?

Watching addicts get their yuletide fix.

Beats shovelling reindeer crap.

You wanna do this?

Yeah, let's go.

Sorry to intrude,

but do you know the whereabouts
of a brother named Desmond Styles?

Hey, come here, man! Get back here!

Hey, hey!

- Put your hands on your head.
- Freeze!

Ah-ha! Desmond Styles, I believe.

A once-upon-a-time compadre in crime
of Boots Chiggens?

You know anryhing about the murder
of Whitney Freeman, Desmond?

Whitney what?

Lived on the right side of the tracks?

Yeah, somebody set her on fire,
Desmond.

We found kerosene near the body.

- Had your fingerprints on it.
- I didn't set nobody on fire.

You set her on fire,

so she couldn't testify against
a good friend, Boots Chiggens

in his upcoming murder trial.

Boots deserves to die.
He stole everything I got.

He'd steal from his mother,
if it'd make him richer.

- You're lying to us.
- It was that damn woman.

- What woman?
- That crazy woman of his.

Danielle.

No, wait. Nice try, though.

Hell, girl! I sold her the kerosene!

- He sold her the kerosene.
- Come on.

- Why I'm doing this?
- No fun alone. My dad does it with me.

Right, your dad, again.
What the hell was that?

- It's a baseball. You need to hit it.
- How do I see it?

- Concentrate.
- Concentrate?

- You didn't concentrate.
- I saw the blur clearer this time.

Maybe if you take off
those stupid dark glasses.

Oh! Nobody could hit a ball
going a million miles an hour.

I'd go to the moon for breakfast
at that speed.

Give me a break.

- Oh!
- Face it, you have no skills.

You're a spaz!

You know, you remind me of someone.
Someone unpleasant.

I can't put my finger on it.

Oh!

- I'm embarrassed.
- I embarrass you?

Compared to what do I embarrass you?

- It couldn't be your dad, could it?
- Yeah.

I embarrass you compared
to some fall-down drunk

who leaves his kid alone
half the week?

You got such low standards?
You find me lacking?

I didn't mean that. I'm sorry.

I'm sore cos I can't get a baseball.
I'm sorry.

My dad's not a fall-down drunk
and he is coming home.

Fidel, I didn't mean that.

Tim, I like this game.

- Mm-hm.
- Hearts.

- Yeah.
- Funny name, though.

- How much have I lost so far?
- Not really much. Just a few bucks.

The night is young.

Not so young according to this watch
that I've never seen it before.

- It's almost dawn.
- That gives us time.

Yes, sir, plenty of time
for a few more hands.

You know something?
You could go into profit any minute now.

- Go into profit!
- That's what makes it an exciting game.

We're ordering some pizza
and wondered if you guys want some.

I'm starving.
I'm always hungry when I'm having fun.

- Hmm.
- Pepperoni, I hope.

I'm shocked.
What about your high-fibre diet?

- To hell with that high-fibre diet.
- Yes!

- It's a holiday!
- A holiday.

How's the card game coming along?

Oh, it's good, man. It's... great.

Join the festivities.

- I'll order that pizza.
- One big happy family.

- Money! You're playing for money!
- That's right. That's right, Beau.

What a strange coincidence!
I play cards for money myself.

Large pepperoni pizzas, homicide unit.

What do you want?

Where you gonna run to?
Where you going?

Danielle, you're under arrest for the
murder of Whitney Freeman.

You have the right to remain silent.

You have the right to an attorney.

Anryhing you say can be used
against you in a court of law.

I was protecting my family.

That's all I was doing.
Protecting my children.

These children need their daddy.

It's Christmas, you bastard!

- This really is repulsive.
- Toughen up.

What is the appeal of eating ice cream
on a cold winter night?

It tastes good. Look, this is really gross.

Gross? It's a recommendation?
Yeah, that's good.

Fidel, it appears we've been abandoned
by my supposed partner, Stanley,

which means the time has come.

The inevitable can no longer
be postponed.

- What does that mean?
- It means it's time to talk.

You're kidding, right?
That's all you ever do.

You talk and nothing ever makes
any sense.

Hey, it's just getting good.

I'm serious, Fidel.
We've gotta talk about your father.

He'll be here. He promised me.

You know how when you're a kid
and someone dresses up like Santa,

and you say, "That's really Santa Claus
here to see you."

I never believed in Santa Claus.

Yes, you did. When you were little.
Everybody did.

I never did. I knew it was a trick.
I knew it was fake.

You're just saying that now
because you're older, but then...

Santa makes you feel good
when there's nothing to feel good about.

- How can you live with that attitude?
- Do you believe in Santa Claus?

- No.
- So what's your point?

My point is that sometimes people
believe things that aren't true

because they need to believe them.

- Like my dad's such a great guy?
- No, like your dad's coming back.

He's coming back.
He always comes back.

- Not this time.
- He's just late. He forgets.

He goes out on the stupid jobs he does.

He comes back because he's my dad.

Fidel, your dad... He's...

Dad!

- You could've called me!
- I did.

The phone rang 12 times.
Where did you go?

You could have come in the door first.
You could have prepared me.

I've spent the night trying to tell this kid
his father's dead.

Munch, calm down. You're overexcited.

This is not bad news.
This is good news.

A nice piece of detective work
on my part, I'd like to say.

So, the kid's dad was mugged?

Yeah. He got drunk and fell asleep.

A guy, Lenny Krantz, comes and says,
"This is an easy night's work."

He takes the Santa suit and the pot,
and takes off with it.

He puts on the suit. He's ringing the bell.
He's collecting money.

He figures he's home free.

Some other guy comes and kills him
for the same dough in the pot.

This is some city, huh?

Merry Christmas.

So, what about you?

What about me?

Wasn't the action that drove you out
on Christmas Eve, was it?

Caroline's grandparents are visiting -
my husband's parents.

As... you may or may not know,
my husband's dead,

and... his parents are very sweet,

but... they remind me of him.

I had to get out of the house.

Yeah. I can relate.

My apartment's so empty,

the whole apartment echoes
when you flush the toilet.

What? No girlfriends?

Not this week.

I'm gonna go out to my folks place today.

You know, there's the whole thing -
uncles, cousins, all of that.

It'll be... nice.

- My husband's name was Mike.
- Was he a cop too?

No. No.

- He was a lawyer.
- Ah.

- A tax lawyer.
- Ah!

I met him at my sister Eileen's
annual Christmas bash

for her fellow accountants.

20 very boring people
sipping very cheap champagne.

Was Mike boring too?

Yeah. Yeah, he was.

I'm sorry.

But I loved him, you know.

I loved how he looked guilty

every time he thought
he was having too much fun.

Boring bastard.
He ruined Christmas for me.

- Oh. It's hard missing the dead.
- Yeah.

We wanted you to know that we caught
the person who killed your daughter.

Well, thank you very much
for coming to tell me.

That's very generous,
very considerate.

Well, you see,
I have a daughter too, Caroline.

She's much younger, but...

I am sure

that you are a better mother
than I was to Whitney.

I was too involved in my own life
to give her the love she needed.

Too busy.

- Would you stay for coffee?
- No, thank you.

I can't stay, thanks.
I really should get back.

I'd like to be there
when Caroline opens her stocking.

Well, yes, of course.

I told them a hundred times,

not to put
all the red decorations together!

Thank you for coming.

It was a rare gesture...
in an uncivilised world!

Shelby!

Shelby, please show
the police officers to the door.

- Where the hell is everybody?
- Look at this!

They didn't even decorate
the Christmas tree.

What type of people
are we dealing with here?

Gambler types.

Don't say anryhing. The evening's
entertainment is about to conclude.

Playing cards
while we've been saving the world?

Can I ask why nobody finished
decorating my Christmas tree?

What's going on?

They're playing cards.

- Hearts. Good game.
- Hearts?

Hearts.

Oh, hearts!

- No!
- What do you mean, hearts?

- Hearts?
- Oh, don't do it, Gee!

Oh, no!

Look at that,
and he got the queen of spades.

I can't believe it, he shot the moon!

Thought I had you there, Gee.

I had fun. I like having fun.

You did good, Gee.

- Thanks a lot.
- I'm going home.

Tim, I enjoyed watching you
come into my office

to play a game I was unfamiliar with.

- To play for money, no less.
- I was just trying to help out.

- Office morale, I know.
- Yeah.

Let me give you a little advice
for the future, Tim.

Never try to hustle a Sicilian.

You tried to hustle Gee
in hearts? Are you out of your mind?

- What do you mean?
- He was famous, no one could beat him.

He put one of his kids through college
playing hearts.

- He did? Did he?
- Yeah. Once a rookie, always a rookie.

- Where's Megan?
- A t home.

She'll be back to baby-sit these bozos.

Oh, sorry, Higby. Didn't mean to hurt
your non-existent feelings.

Merry Christmas to you too, Meldrick.

Hey, Kay!

Have yourself

A merry little Christmas...

It's snowing!

Let your heart be light

From now on

Our troubles

Will be out of sight

Have yourself

A merry little Christmas...

- Merry Christmas.
- Merry Christmas, Gee.

With the yuletide gay...

Merry Christmas!
Happy Hannukah!

Merry Christmas!