Original subtitles

- [Lewis] You get your raise this month? - [Munch] Yeah.

Yeah, me too. And my check was smaller.

That's the first of the year, the government always takes out a little more taxes

- in the first quarter. - Why?

Well, to help pay for what they overspent last year

to get a jump on what they're going to overspend this year.

- You got anything invested? - Invested?

What do I have left after the bar?

You put all your money in the bar?

Are you out of your mind?

W-- what? You didn't?

Investment 101, diversify, what if the bar is hit by lightning

and you're going to be in a welfare line or something?

- So what am I supposed to do? - You got anything saved?

No, I just keep buying bigger TV sets.

Why do you all get so hard for Harleys?

We have to explain. You wouldn't understand.

Oh, that's deep. Hey, Doc, what's his name?

Andrew Whetherly. His nickname was Monk.

Member of the Deacons' Biker Gang.

[Lewis] What, he get shot in the face?

[Dr. Lausanne] Yeah, then he was dragged a couple miles behind a car.

See the ligature marks and gravel on his cheeks?

- [Lewis] Ouch. - [Dr. Lausanne] It's a wonder the head didn't fall off.

You.

Now, if I asked you what you'd know, you wouldn't tell me, right?

It would depend on your attitude.

You have any idea who, uh,

might have wanted to overkill your buddy?

Look, nobody wanted the Monk to die, all right?

We loved him.

Yeah, well, that would imply that maybe

you would have some say-so in whether he lived or died.

That implies nothing, Officer.

All I'm saying is this was club business.

You're a cop.

- You should know what I mean. - I don't.

- Can't help you, then. - We'll be in touch.

[motorbikes revving]

[theme song playing]

[music fades]

[office din]

[man whispering] It's Commissioner Harris.

- [Harris] Hello. - [man] Hello, Commissioner.

Commissioner Harris.

Good to see you. Good to have you down here.

[Harris] Thank you. Good to see you. Frank?

Hello.

- Hi. - How are you?

Um, very well, all things considered.

- [Harris] Busy? - No more than usual, sir.

Oh. Are you free for lunch?

[Pembleton] As a matter of fact, I am.

Shall we?

See you later, Tim.

- What's he doing here? - He asked Frank for lunch.

Hey, hey, hey, get your own.

[Felton] I just want to see the sports section.

What for, there wasn't even a game last night.

They usually advertise airline prices in that section.

Oh, now, wait a minute.

If memory serves, you've used up your vacation.

I'm not taking a vacation.

After that jackass Gaffney down in Missing Persons screwed me,

I hired a private detective to find Beth and the kids.

A private detective? Come on, you're a detective.

You're going to be way better than any Sam Spade wannabe

you could hire.

If memory serves, I've got a day job, Kay.

Besides, this guy's good.

Says he found some receipts from a motel outside of Camden.

- Camden, New Jersey? - That makes sense.

Beth's got family in Pennsylvania.

She probably headed up the Jersey Turnpike on her way there.

Anyway, it's something.

[phone ringing]

Homicide, Detective Felton.

Yep. Right. I got it.

Come on, let's go.

[restaurant din]

[man] Hi, Jim.

- Oh, hi. - How's it going?

- [woman] Hello, Commissioner. - Oh, hiya.

Iced tea and linguine pomodoro, Mr. Harris?

Ah, yes, thank you.

[waiter] And for you, sir?

- The same, please. - [waiter] Very well.

- May I? - Well, you're wearing the gun.

[chuckles] True.

You really broke my heart last year, Frank.

- Did I? How? - Mm.

When you turned down that promotion.

- For shift commander? - Yeah, yeah.

I've been watching your career.

You're a hell of a good policeman.

My plan was to eventually move you upstairs with me.

I felt that I would be better off handling...

cases than politics.

Yes, yes, I understand.

Most men care more about moving up the ladder

than being good where they are.

I respected your decision then, and I still do.

Thank you.

Frank, do you know, um...

Congressman Jeremy Wade?

Uh, not personally, but yes, I know of him.

I voted for him.

Mm-hmm, he's been good to Baltimore,

and especially to the police department.

Hmm.

Two nights ago, Congressman Wade called me.

Said he'd been kidnapped by two men

who had warned him

about staying away from his assistant's girlfriend.

Well, he said he didn't want to report it officially, but I, uh--

Well, he sounded a little shook up, so...

I had a unit respond.

Now, I don't think it's appropriate for me

to conduct the investigation, so...

I want you to do that for me, Frank.

Sir, I'm a homicide investigator.

I know, I know.

But I need somebody good...

someone smart, someone tactful.

Hmm.

I need the best. You're the best.

I'll have to clear this with Giardello.

We're a man down, so I need to make sure that he's covered.

Well, you let me make that call for you.

I want you to separate the fact from the fiction.

And I want you to report to only me, hmm?

Right.

[Harris clears throat]

Now, put-- put a little parmesan on that pomodoro.

Brings it alive.

[siren blaring]

[groans] What do we got?

[uniform] Uh, the deceased is a white male,

50 to 60 years old, by all appearances homeless.

Single bullet to the head.

He was found with his, uh,

pants down around his ankles.

He was by a tree, squatting, as if about to, uh--

Well, you know. Defecate.

- [Felton] Did he? - Did he what, sir?

Dump.

Well, no, sir, not as far as I can tell.

Did you look?

- Well, I, uh-- - Where is this tree?

You know, it's, uh, right over here.

[police radio chatter]

- Where's the body? - They took it.

Who took it?

Those guys in the ambulance, the, uh, paramedics.

Uh, hold on.

That wasn't a medical examiner's truck.

- No, it was from St. Agnes Hospital. - Oh.

So I don't get it. Where are they taking the body?

- To St. Agnes. - Oh, so the guy wasn't dead, is that what you're telling me?

Oh, no, he was dead, all right, definitely dead.

Uh, they pronounced him at 1:30 p.m.

So before Homicide could get here,

you let them take a dead body to the hospital?

Well, the paramedics seemed to know what they were doing.

Well-- well, he was found, uh, kind of like this, you know.

- Let's go. - Go where?

[Howard] Go find a body.

[Felton] Uh, rule of thumb, rook.

It's not a homicide unless there's a body.

[police radio chatter]

Tattoos make you queasy, Meldrick?

I just don't understand the fascination with scarring up your body.

It's not a scar.

It's an ancient ritual that originated in Polynesia

as a symbol of virility and manhood.

Look, if you need a permanent scar on your body

to declare your manhood, you're really not much of a man.

- Geez. - [Munch] I think tattoos are cool.

Oh, you got one, they're so cool?

Where?

- Bree Whetherly work here? - Who wants to know?

- We do. - And you are?

Representative of a major sweepstakes, all right?

- She just won a cruise. - Cops.

Uh, she's in the back, practicing.

- Doesn't that hurt? - Trick is not to care.

[tattoo pen buzzing]

- Miss Whetherly? - Yeah?

I'm Detective Lewis, this is Detective Much.

- We're from Homicide. - Damn, this hurts.

- Trick is not to care. - Oh, really?

You try it.

[Munch] Mrs. Whetherly, sorry I have to tell you this,

but, uh, your husband...

Is dead.

Last night before he left the house,

he was sitting in Mama's old rocking chair,

feeding the baby.

And he was crying.

Kissing Sarah's cheeks,

holding her so tight I thought she'd break.

I knew then he didn't have long.

Why, was Monk in some kind of feud with a rival club

or somebody from the Deacons'?

A feud? [chuckles]

Nobody messed with Monk.

He'd just as soon beat your ass as shake your hand.

Except when it came to Sarah Rose.

You should have seen what a mook he made of himself around her.

You have any idea who might have wanted your husband dead?

Well, a-- ask Preacher.

- Preacher? - He's the Deacons' warlord.

Keeps the club members in line, disciplines the rallies,

reviews prospects.

- What's prospects? - Guys who wanna be in the club.

Preacher also does weddings.

He's a bishop in the American Fellowship Church.

He married me and Monk.

Did Monk ever say anything to you at all

about any kind of trouble he might have been in?

Monk didn't talk to me about club business.

That just ain't done.

Where would we find this Preacher?

The club's got a strip joint out on Belair Road.

Watch yourself around Preacher, though.

[chuckles] He's not liable to take a joke.

Either of you interested in a cherry '68 Electra Glide?

Monk bored and stroked it last spring.

Electra Glide?

[Bree] His Harley.

Pull your head out of the sand, boys.

Well, ask your cop buddies, would you?

I need the money.

Monk wasn't exactly overinsured, you know.

I would just like to say

that when white people mess themselves up,

they do it in such bizarre ways.

[Munch chuckles]

- Where's your tattoo, Munch? - Guess.

No!

Frank, Frank, I don't care about the alleged kidnapping.

What I want to know is what Jim Harris,

the grand poobah, the wunderkind of our department,

had for lunch.

We had linguine pomodoro, okay?

Oh, you're being guided, man.

It's like you're being groomed.

Mr. Wade says the van was a late-model

Ford Windstar, red.

He also says he was forced into the van

through a side door on the driver's side.

Vans don't have side doors on the driver's side.

Didn't you say that he was the one

who engineered the offer for your promotion last year?

- Yes. - You're golden, Frank.

He also claims the van slowed,

and he was ejected here.

But when I examined the clothes he was wearing that night,

I found no grass stains,

no rips, no tears.

What about the-- what about these people who dropped him off?

Well, he says there was a Neighborhood Watch barbecue going on.

Well, that's a little chilly to be cooking outdoors.

Well, I checked with, uh, Parks and Recreation,

and I found that there was no permit

issued for the park that day.

Mm, so we're looking for a van which does not exist,

which carried kidnappers who never lived,

who did not abscond with a US Congressman,

and then didn't drop him off here?

I guess. I don't know.

This really stinks, Frank.

Well, um...

- Let's keep looking. - For what?

None of the particulars exist.

You know, I've been asked to exercise my expertise

as a homicide detective, and that's what I'm gonna do.

Harris caught you doing something, didn't he?

- What? - Huh? He caught you.

You know, nabbing the cash

out of the Orphans' and Widows' Fund, is that it?

- You know, sometimes you're funny. - Yeah.

And then there's now.

[woman on PA] Dr. Barrett, please call your office.

- I mean, Reservoir Dogs, I've seen that movie. - Think it'll go to his head?

[woman on PA] Dr. Ehrlich to OR six, please.

Dr. Ehrlich to OR six.

Excuse me, I'm Detective Howard, Baltimore City Homicide.

- We're looking for a body. - Take your pick.

Easy on the laughs.

We've been to the hospital morgue.

They sent us to admitting. They sent us to records.

They sent us to you.

[beeper beeping]

Gotta make a call.

A dead body.

Came in here within the last hour.

White male, approximately 50 years of age.

- Oh, yeah, I know who you mean. - Where is he?

- Detective, that man was dead. - Uh-huh.

In order to qualify for admission to this hospital,

a patient has to be, at the very least,

clinging to life.

I'm aware of that.

But if you didn't admit the dead body, where is it?

They took it back.

- Took it back? - To where they found it.

[sighs] They took it back to where they found it.

Ain't that great?

- [Felton] Kay. - What?

My PI thinks that Beth took the kids to Philly.

Yeah, and the paramedics took the body

back to where they found it.

It's like a treasure hunt.

[upbeat rock music playing]

[song lyrics playing]

- [man] Ready? - [man 2] Yeah!

[men cheering]

Whoa. Lisa, she's, uh, limber.

Yeah, I bet she's a virgin.

You know, I see these women,

and I just got this urge to take them home,

you know, try to talk some sense into them.

- No sex? - Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

A couple beers, a couple shots, and plenty of sex,

but I still want to try and help them out, you know?

- We're looking for Preacher. - Over there.

Are you Preacher?

Detective Lewis, Detective Munch.

Homicide.

The Monk was a good soldier.

Had an awesome sense of duty, and a lot of heart.

You say the Monk had a sense of duty,

are you saying that he died for a reason?

- Don't we all? - So who killed the Monk?

When a man dies at the hands of a mob,

how do you tell who killed him exactly?

- There was more than one killer? - Not according to the Warren Commission.

Hey, look, are you capable of giving us a straight answer?

Do we need to drag your narrow behind downtown

and you can finish your lunch at the station?

You got Nanny Bo on tap at your office, I'm in.

We spoke to Monk's wife.

She seems to think that you might have an idea

of who wanted him killed.

Her yapping's the damn reason the Monk's dead.

You saying this is a vendetta?

Oh, Detective...

you are going to have to abandon

this seriously linear way of thinking

you've grown to love.

Dig a little deeper, man.

You're being lazy.

Who're you calling lazy, you piece of retro Nazi crap?

Get up! No, no, I don't have to put up with this trash.

- Whoa! - Get up!

What are you looking at? Get up!

Come on.

Make me.

What the hell happened to you guys?

Our man Lewis here has a Chuck Norris streak

we didn't know about.

Who's the welterweight?

He's a member of the Deacons' motorcycle gang.

He got into a "mine's bigger than yours" with Lewis.

Looks like his was bigger.

Much bigger.

[office din]

[Giardello] Frank!

What floor are you working on these days?

Your chair's empty.

The room no longer has the energy

of Baltimore's best and brightest detective.

Well, Harris asked me to look into something.

Uh, I'll need a couple of days.

- Did he call and tell you? - Yeah.

- And told me nothing. - Hmm.

- You're my prized pupil. - Mm.

You want to tell me the goods?

He asked me to fix a traffic ticket.

- You don't trust me. - Oh, Gee, Gee.

They eat their wounded upstairs.

Be careful.

Okay, Gee.

Thanks.

[Lewis] Whetherly was doing a little business on the side.

He was breaking the rules.

You're the so-called warlord,

and you had to make an example out of him.

You have no soul.

Don't you talk to me about soul!

The whole premise of this case is soul.

You see, you have decided that I am some low-life scooter trash,

and that I'd take the life of my brother

just as soon as I'd take a sip of beer.

Now, where the hell is all this eloquence coming from, huh?

You actually passed the third grade?

No, actually, he went to Williams College.

- For a year, anyway. - What?

- He's from Connecticut. - Connecticut?

His real name is Jason Calhoun.

He prepped at Hotchkiss, probably summered down the Cape.

Well, you come from money, chump?

You pass on some kind of bank.

What's this, Northeastern Mortgage and--

Yeah, we all have these little embarrassments in our past.

Mr. Calhoun, do you know who killed Monk Whetherly?

I don't know who...

but I do know why.

And if you two understand the why,

well, then you'll figure out who.

Then why don't you just tell us the why?

Because he loved his little girl.

Now, I'm sorry about the scuffle earlier,

but you asked for it,

and you know damn well that I didn't kill the Monk,

so unless you've got anything further,

I'd like to get back to my life.

[Munch sighs]

I'll have a uniformed officer take you home, Jason.

Don't bother.

[rock music playing]

My ride's here.

- [Pembleton] Timothy Draper? - Yes?

[Pembleton] Can we speak with you for a minute?

Sure, come in.

Thanks.

I met Jeremy Wade

at the Democratic National Convention

in New York, 1992.

We're all hugging and singing

"Don't Stop Thinking About Tomorrow."

No, thank you. How long have you, uh, worked for Congressman Wade?

Two years.

I was in my second year of law school at Columbia

when Jeremy offered me the job as his assistant.

I'm actually in the process now

of moving back to New York to finish school.

Mm, Mr. Draper, Congressman Wade is asserting

that you had him kidnapped and warned him to stay away from your girlfriend.

What?

You want to tell us what's really going on?

I came to DC

to work for a powerful three-term US Congressman.

He set me up in Baltimore to be closer to his constituents,

sort of his eyes and ears.

It was great at first, helping him come up with ideas,

legislation, breaking bread at the weekly caucus

with the most powerful politicians in our government.

I mean, DC is like heroin.

You get a taste of that power, that...

level of involvement.

Why'd you quit?

[sighs]

Because Jeremy and I...

started a relationship.

A love affair.

- You don't have a girlfriend? - No.

I'm gay.

The affair was beginning to affect his work.

And mine.

I told him I had to quit. That I was going back to school.

- That's when he blew up. - Blew up?

Yeah.

He broke my arm.

Yeah, why didn't you report that?

Bones heal.

So this whole kidnapping story is, um...

Sad.

[car honking]

What I don't understand is why we're investigating a domestic.

What I don't get is the accordion effect of traffic.

Ten feet, stop. Ten feet, stop.

It's not a domestic.

It's a-- it's a kidnapping.

There's no abduction, Frank, okay?

It was a lover's quarrel.

Draper quit, then Wade beat the crap out of him.

Why did Wade make the call?

Well, he probably thought that Draper

was going to report the assault.

So Wade decides he'll call in first,

say that Draper had someone kidnap him.

That way, that takes the wind out of Draper's sail.

That doesn't make a whole hell of a lot of sense.

Well, people under stress

sometimes don't make sensible decisions.

Did you ever go through that phase when you thought you were gay?

No.

You ever had a homosexual experience?

No, Frank.

Even when you were a kid?

No.

Come on, Tim,

every guy goes through this.

- I didn't. - No awkward hugs,

no little pecks on the cheeks, no close encounters of any kind.

How many had you had, Frank?

[horn honking]

- How many? - You first.

Okay, I, uh...

I had a cousin who used to follow me into the bathroom.

Sometimes.

- Really? - Yeah, really.

What did he do?

I don't remember.

- Your turn. - I got nothing to tell you.

Wait a minute, you said that every guy

has had one of these experiences at one point in his life, right?

I must have been lying.

What am I gonna do with this case?

Ask Harris, he's the one

who is grooming you for upper management.

Okay, okay. I'll go ask Harris.

Stupid rookie.

I'm gonna get his name and shield number,

put him on report.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, we're in a hurry here.

I gotta call my detective in a half hour.

I might have to leave for Philly right away.

Hey, Beau, you know, we got a hard enough time

what with rookies letting bodies go with crazed paramedics.

Oh, Kay, Kay.

You don't wanna put this poor kid on report.

He's just inexperienced.

Remember when you were inexperienced?

I was never that inexperienced.

Put him on report.

What's your number, son?

[Lucille] The Deputy Commissioner will be right out, Detective.

He's meeting with the Mayor.

The Mayor? The Mayor's in there?

[Lucille] Oh, yes, he's in and out of here all the time.

Oh.

Oh, Frank, sorry to keep you waiting, come on in.

- Have a seat. - Where's the Mayor?

Well, he, uh, went out the side door.

Does he have something to hide?

[chuckles] Well, not really,

at least not today.

Sit down.

So,

what's the good news about our little, uh, problem?

It's not little, sir. There was no kidnapping.

We're in the middle of a lover's spat between Wade and Draper.

There was no woman.

This whole thing started out as a smokescreen

to hide the fact that Wade is homosexual,

all of which would have meant no harm, no foul,

except that he went ahead and filed a police report,

which, of course, is false, which is a crime.

Yeah, yeah.

So, how do you plan to proceed?

You tell me.

All I know is Article 27, Section 150

of the Annotated Code of Maryland

says that Wade owes the public $500

and six months in jail for the misdemeanor filing of a false report.

Well, the way I see it...

is if Congressman Wade is charged...

the media will probably pull

his private life out of the closet,

and we will lose a very important ally in Congress.

If Wade goes,

we'll have more dead cops on the street.

Sir, do you want me to put this file on my desk and walk away?

What about the false report?

Well, if there was no crime committed,

then we could just let this thing, uh...

die.

- Have you talked to Wade? - No.

Then you should.

Make sure he understands how you plan to proceed.

How I plan to proceed?

Sir, you're gonna have to be much,

much more specific than that.

Do you want me to go down to DC,

and cut a deal with Congressman Wade?

I want you to tell Congressman Wade

there will be no investigation,

that we understand...

that this is just a trivial episode

of poor judgment,

and we'll take care of it.

Okay, sir.

[office din]

[Lewis sighs]

Taking your work a little bit too seriously, don't you think?

No, I'm just trying to get into these people's heads.

I mean, it's a fascinating world.

Fascinating?

These pig boys are nothing but a bunch of fat,

drunken racists who ride illegally altered motorcycles.

They're a gang, for crying out loud.

True, well, they're not a gang, per se.

The-- the MC on the patches, that stands for Motorcycle Club.

Meldrick, they're stone killers.

Or you could say that they're the last living legacy

of the wild, wild West, huh?

Riding steel horses,

and maintaining an almost fanatical code of honor

and, uh, independence.

They blew a guy's face off. They made his wife a widow.

Where is the honor in that?

Did you know that the Hell's Angels

were an Air Force fighter squadron in the Second World War?

- [sighs] No, I did not. - Ah.

And then after the war, when they finished flying

and they were looking for that rush, they took up motorcycles.

In fact, they had a riot of some sort

out in, uh, Hollister, California.

That's where they based the movie

Wild Ones, the Brando movie.

Yeah, it's interesting.

Look, I interviewed a couple of members

of the Phoenix Motorcycle Club, and they assured me

they had no bones to pick whatsoever with anybody from the Deacons'.

Munch, this ain't got nothing to do with no outside club.

Lewis, it's for you. Line three.

Lewis, Homicide.

Who's this?

Okay.

- [Munch] Where you going? - Don't know.

[whistles] Lewis.

[Easton clears throat]

- Yeah? - Sorry about the cloak and dagger.

I'm Special Agent Harvey Easton, FBI.

[laughs] How didn't I know that?

[scoffs] I'm not the guy in the recruiting posters.

Look, I, uh--

I know you're investigating Monk Whetherly's murder.

You do, huh? How?

I'm doing undercover work in the Deacons.

Mind if we, uh, step out of the way a bit?

What, you know who whacked Whetherly?

Oh, yeah. A guy named Gabe Clark.

He's, uh, nothing. He's just some punk prospecting for the club.

I got his address right here, but, uh,

I gotta ask you to make the bust as clean as possible.

What, I'm stepping on Federal toes here?

Well, we're trying to make a RICO case

to shut the club down.

Preacher involved?

Nah, the president of the club,

a guy named Benny Reston's

been working for some wise guys down in Miami,

uh, doing some odd hits, distributing coke

and methamphetamines here in Baltimore County.

I got the two confirmed acts of racketeering I need to indict,

but, uh, gotta get my contact out first.

- She's out of time. - Uh-huh, who's your contact?

Whetherly's wife.

She put me in contact with Reston.

[Lewis sighs]

Uh, he loved his little girl.

Yeah. [chuckles] Whatever.

Look, uh, I'll take Reston.

You take the slugger who whacked Monk.

- Okay? - Yeah, whatever.

Thanks.

Ah, Detective Pembleton.

Good afternoon. Sorry to keep you waiting.

Do you need some coffee or anything?

- No, I'm-- I'm fine, thanks. - Please.

So, how's everything on the home front?

Well, same as usual. Out of control.

I love Baltimore.

The northernmost southern city.

Friendly and gracious like Dixie,

but liberally conservative like any good WASP enclave.

Congressman Wade, I assume you know why I'm here.

Yes, I think so.

You're here to interview me about the kidnapping.

Congressman, uh...

I'm not sure how to say this, um, but...

there isn't one shred of truth to your story.

There was no van, there was no abduction,

no threats were made against your life.

Jim said you were honest and honorable.

Well, this is the way we are.

You made the call to preempt Mr. Draper

from filing an assault charge

because you thought that charge might lead to an investigation,

and that investigation might lead to the...

disclosing of your personal life.

Yes.

A police officer responded to that call.

- A report was filed. - Yes.

Filing a false report is a crime.

Sir, it's my impression that this is a private matter

between you and Mr. Draper,

and that you would prefer to keep it private.

- That is correct. - Well, then...

if a crime has been committed,

we will investigate...

fully.

However, if no crime was committed...

well, then...

that puts an end to it.

If I tell you that no crime occurred,

this investigation is over,

and this admission would never be used against me?

Not by me.

There was no abduction...

and I would prefer the matter be dealt with privately.

Consider this case file closed, and your private life private.

Thank you very much, Detective.

I represent, as I said, a mostly southern city.

This isn't California or Massachusetts.

The truth is not my ally

with respect to my private life.

- I wish it were, but-- - I wouldn't worry about it, sir.

Suspect's name is Gabe Clark.

He's 6'3", black hair, heavyset,

considered armed and extremely dangerous, all right?

He may or may not have a girlfriend with him.

Let's go.

[tense music playing]

[all shouting at once]

[uniform] Baltimore Police, you're under arrest.

Okay, you got him?

Oh, we're never gonna close this case, you know.

- I know. - It's too late.

Whatever chance we had,

if we ever had any chance at all, it's gone.

- I know. - Crime scene's been violated,

chain of evidence has been broken.

For Pete's sake, the body's been on

an extended tour of greater Baltimore.

It sucks, Kay. I feel bad that you're the primary.

After not closing the Chilton case,

your average is gonna sink below the Mendoza line.

I'm the primary? Since when am I the primary?

You took the call.

When we were getting in the car--

Uh, Dawkins Investigations.

Yeah, I'll hold.

When we were getting in the car, you said,

"I'll be the primary."

[scoffs] I'm gonna kick you as hard as I can

somewhere below your Mendoza line.

[Felton] Doug Chambers? Yeah, is he in?

Hey, you want me to be the primary?

I'll be the primary.

Yeah, no, just-- just tell him that Beau Felton called, okay?

- Yeah, thanks. - [Howard scoffs]

Answering service.

You are gonna eat this one, Beau.

Uh, you know, even a homeless, unknown,

unclaimed John Doe

deserves my 100% effort in closing this case.

[office din]

Frank.

- Hey, hey. Good morning. - Good morning.

What's with the dog and pony show?

Oh, there's blood in the water, Frank.

It's your blood. Those people are waiting for you.

- What the hell for? - Well, I'm just a messenger, okay?

Maria Delgado of Channel 8 just broke a story

saying that there had been a police cover-up

of criminal charges brought against Congressman Jeremy Wade.

You gotta be kidding me.

No, as you previously indicated,

I'm no good at being funny.

So, what you wanna do, go in the front door

or go in the back, I'm with you, either way.

- I'm walking in the front door. - Just as I thought.

[Maria] Here he comes. Here he comes. Let's go.

Detective Pembleton. Detective Pembleton.

Excuse me. Excuse me.

[journalists clamoring]

Do you have any statement

as to your alleged complicity

in, uh, covering up the charges against Congressman Wade?

- Detective Pembleton. - [Bayliss] Hey, hey.

[Maria] Detective Pembleton.

[office din]

[Giardello] Frank.

Don't everyone say hello at once.

[Giardello] Frank, maybe you'd like to sit down.

Then again, I might not.

[Barnfather] Detective Pembleton,

I was making French toast for my kids this morning

when I got a call from Maria Delgado of Channel 8.

She was about to go on the air with a bizarre story

about how Congressman Jerry Wade had been kidnapped,

and then after a formal investigation

had been undertaken, he recanted,

which implied that instead of Wade being charged

with filing a false police report,

you buried it, covered it up.

And I need you to give me your side of the story

before I decide what, if any,

disciplinary action will be taken.

Deputy Commissioner, you wanna--

Feel free to jump in here at any time.

I called in Detective Pembleton to, um,

investigate the veracity

of Congressman Wade's allegations.

- And? - No crime was committed.

Then we have to notify the State's Attorney's Office

that probable causes exist to charge Wade.

- We can't. - Why not, Detective?

I gave him my word that he wouldn't be charged.

Under whose authority?

Under Commissioner James Harris's authority.

Jim, did you okay this deal?

No, I did not.

Detective Pembleton has clearly overstepped

the parameters of professional conduct

and propriety.

Well, that's it then.

Detective Pembleton, you are, as of now,

under administrative suspension with pay.

- [Pembleton cackles] - You will limit your activities to paperwork

and answering the phones, and don't act so surprised.

What did you expect?

You've done a great disservice

to the reputation of this department and to this city.

- Gee, help me out here. - With what, Frank?

You told me it was a traffic ticket.

You told me everything was under control.

In point of fact, you've told me nothing.

And now there's nothing I can do.

There's only one thing for me to do.

I quit.

[upbeat rock music playing]

Y'all riding today?

We got a funeral.

We're burying our brother.

We arrested Gabe Clark this morning.

Nothing righteous about that son of a bitch.

Yeah, well, he says that, um,

your club president, Reston, ordered the hit.

- You believe him? - I believe it's club business.

I believe that Monk's wife was giving up the club,

and you couldn't let her get away with it.

In ancient Rome...

when a member of your family sinned...

the head of the family was allowed to die

so that the others could live.

So Monk died for his wife's sins.

He allowed himself to be slaughtered

because he loved his daughter so much.

You ever love anybody that much, detective?

Not yet.

You got something to work for, then.

Look, you know,

I've read about your so-called code of honor.

And the way that you live your life with this abandon...

but murder is not honor.

And if you ain't never pick up the sword,

then you ain't never have to worry about falling on it.

[Preacher] Is it worth living without the sword?

You picked up one, right?

It's in that holster on your hip.

[*]

All right, let's make it fast. We gotta get going, all right?

- [knocking on door] - [Lewis] Miss Whetherly?

[Bree] Yeah, what?

I have your husband's personal effects.

You never picked them up from the Medical Examiner's.

[Bree] Friggin' Feds.

Get me to roll over for them,

and then I've got 15 minutes

to pack up my entire life.

- Nobody's coming for you. - You're a civilian.

You have no idea.

- Do you know why Monk was killed? - Yeah.

- Yeah, because of me. - No.

No. Because of her.

You listen to me?

He made a deal.

Your husband died so that your daughter,

his daughter, could have a mother.

Ain't nobody gonna touch you now.

Maybe. Maybe not. I can't take that chance.

[Bree grunts]

They're burying him today.

See that he gets that.

I don't want him down there all alone.

Sarah could always make him smile.

Always make him feel better. Huh, honey?

That's it. It's all I'm taking.

Miss Whetherly, I won't be going out to the funeral.

I don't have time to do that.

I just want someone to say goodbye to him for us, okay?

All right, that's fine. Let's go. Come on.

[somber music playing]

[Bayliss] Hey. Frank.

- What's going on? - I needed a few things.

I'm fixing dinner for my wife tonight.

Oh, so you're just gonna walk out on me?

I didn't walk out on you, Tim. We're not engaged.

So don't act like I left you at the altar.

Frank, listen. You're my partner, okay?

I mean, you're my best friend.

So what am I supposed to say now?

That you're my best friend? I don't have best friends, Tim.

Well, they only suspended you for a month

I shouldn't have been suspended at all.

Huh?

I was asked by a highly respected superior

to fix a lumpy situation.

I got screwed. I should've known better.

But I'm so eager to please my superiors

that I broke the law, cops are not allowed to do that.

Consequently, I'm no longer any good to myself or my badge.

Frank, listen, I mean, this isn't you.

What happened? Frank, you're not quitting.

- Come on! - Yes, I am.

What are you gonna do, huh?

You're gonna run security at a corporation off the Beltway?

You're gonna teach crime detection technique

at the Police Academy?

Huh? You can't, Frank.

You're a cop, and you will always be a cop.

Not anymore, in fact,

I'm already relishing that moment tomorrow

when the sun goes down,

and I haven't seen one dead person.

That moment when my wife walks through the door

and she gets to say, "Honey, I'm home."

And I get to fix her a scotch and soda,

and ask her about her day,

and actually, for once,

listen, and care,

as she relates every boring detail.

- But I don't have a partner. - Get over it, Tim.

I'm going home.

[emotional music playing]

[song lyrics playing]

So, what'd Gee say?

Said he's gonna give me the time to go hash it out.

For how long? A couple or three days.

I'll be at Beth's cousin's house in Upper Darby outside of Philly.

I can't believe how long it's been since I held my kids.

- All right, I'll see you. - Hey, Beau.

Come on, let's go.

[*]

Oh, yeah.

- Thanks, Kay. - Merry Christmas, huh?

Thanks.

[*]

[*]

[*]