Original subtitles

[man on PA] Train number 176 now arriving at Track 6AE.

Train number 176 now arriving at Track 6AE.

Detective Frank Pembleton? Mike Logan, NYPD.

This is your prisoner. R. Vincent Smith.

So, whenever you decide to show up, I'm supposed to be here?

Hey, you're on the clock, same as me.

What difference does it make?

Typical Big Apple attitude.

Anyway, Mr. Smith here has agreed to waive extradition

on a fugitive warrant for second-degree murder.

So they call this Charm City, huh?

Sounds like something you get out of a box of Crackerjacks.

Who'd want to stay in this land of enchantment?

Plenty of New Yorkers ran down here to Baltimore.

- Dorothy Parker, for example. - Dorothy who?

Parker, you illiterate.

Dorothy Parker was the wittiest woman in America.

The toast of Manhattan.

She dies, she's cremated,

her ashes sit in a jar in some Wall Street Lawyer's office

for 20 years-- 20 years!

While all the New York sophisticates hem and haw,

"Whatsoever shall we do with poor Dorothy's ashes?"

And where does she end up?

Baltimore!

- I got two words for you guys. - [Pembleton grunts]

Babe Ruth.

The Babe. King of Swing.

Sultan of Swat.

Born right here in Baltimore,

but where does he go to get his fame and fortune?

New York City.

Edgar Allan Poe.

Edgar Allan Poe hated New York so much

he had to come down to Baltimore to die.

That's what New York does to its poets.

What did he die of? The local crab cakes?

- [Pembleton grunts] - Enjoy your stay, Shakespeare.

Hey, Pembleton!

You're going to jail for this murder,

but thank your lucky stars it's not gonna be in New York.

Why do you think I didn't fight extradition?

I may be guilty, but I'm no fool.

[theme song playing]

[music fades]

[Bayliss] Pratt shoots our guys,

we don't have enough to hold him,

he walks out of here and two hours later,

he's found lying dead at the bottom

of the stairs of his building,

one shot through the forehead.

Badda-bing! Suicide!

[chuckles] Pratt wouldn't have the guts.

Yeah, he was shot at a very close range.

Bullet came from a 9mm Glock, standard police issue.

There are plenty of Glocks on the streets, Tim.

Well, Pratt shoots three of our detectives.

Ends up dead. A cop's a likely suspect.

I get there and I'm all alone.

No uniform came. I had to request my own back-up.

The dispatcher put out the call. I checked on that.

- Not one cop responded. - Hmm, go figure.

Must have been important things happening elsewhere.

Either that or, uh, Pratt was the victim

- of a robbery gone sour. - [Munch] Mm-hmm.

No, no, no. He had his wallet.

He had ten bucks, he had his driver's license,

and an old parking ticket.

The DMV never forgets, Tim.

Let's give whoever killed Pratt

credit for saving the taxpayers' money.

- How's that, Frank? - Well this way,

we won't have to go to trial on the outstanding warrant.

Pratt's death once again demonstrates

his tireless love of country.

John, what's the news from the hospital?

Uh, Stan came out of the second operation okay.

The doctor says, "Give it time."

He still doesn't know who I am.

Kay's good, but she's cranky. Bored.

Sounds like everything's getting back to normal.

So, is that all you've got, Bayliss?

Uh, no, no.

Uh, Pratt fell near a payphone.

Receiver was off the hook,

- so I'm tracing calls. - [phone ringing]

[Giardello] Well, at least you're ahead of the game this time.

[Bayliss] I don't see it that way, Gee.

- See, I need... - Homicide.

Well, you know everyone he knows.

- Meldrick, you free? - [Lewis] Absolutely.

- Gee, I'm taking Lewis. - Fine with me.

Whoa, hold on, Frank! I need some back-up, here!

I just got a call, Tim. I gotta go.

- [Lewis] Gotta run, gotta go. - Meldrick!

[Lewis giggles]

You know Gee, I shouldn't go solo on this.

- Bayliss, you can handle it. - [phone ringing]

[Bayliss sighing]

- Munch? - [ringing continues]

Well, how's that pain in your shoulder, Detective Felton?

I'm not gonna lie and say there's no pain, but I'm okay.

I'm off the Percodan, just taking aspirin now.

- [Mack] How are you sleeping? - Like a baby.

Well, you're certainly making good progress in rehab.

See? I'm strong. I'm fit.

- I'm ready. - Physically, maybe.

Mentally, I'm not so sure.

Post-traumatic stress doesn't always

manifest itself right away.

You don't think Beau's ready?

I'm just suggesting we err on the side of caution.

A little more rest and relaxation certainly won't hurt.

I've been doing nothing but rest.

I need to get back to work. Into the homicide routine.

Who could know better than me?

[Russert sighs]

You'll be on light duty until further notice.

Phones. Paperwork. Cold cases. Understand?

You let me go back to work and I'll even make coffee.

Thanks, Doc.

[indistinct radio chatter]

[Pembleton] Mrs. Burns, you knew the woman who got shot?

[Mrs. Burns] She's my neighbor. Jean Battisto.

Can you tell us what happened?

I was loading groceries into my car.

I looked up and she was lying on the ground,

surrounded by blood.

She just fell down?

- [Mrs. Burns] That's right. - Did you hear a gunshot?

[Mrs. Bruns sobs] I didn't hear anything!

Those bastards!

They're always running around shooting each other.

Uh, which bastards are you referring to, ma'am?

The other side of Fulton.

Those kids are always hanging out on the corner

selling drugs, shooting each other.

This side of Fulton's supposed to be safe.

We don't have Black kids running around shooting guns!

I'm sorry, but it's true.

This was a nice, decent neighborhood.

Those kids in the projects, they killed her.

Mrs. Burns, right now we don't know

where that bullet came from.

I know exactly where it came from.

[tense music playing]

[arcade machine beeping]

You can seat yourself.

Uh, were you working yesterday morning, early?

Yes. You lose an umbrella?

No, I'm a homicide detective.

- You're here about Gordon Pratt. - Yes.

He made a call to this number yesterday

before 8:00 a.m. from a-- from a payphone.

He didn't shoot anyone and you know it.

That's why you let him go.

- He won't be coming in anymore. - He won't?

No. He died.

Oh, no! Mr. Pratt's dead?

How? What happened?

Well, that's what I'm trying to figure out.

Do you remember what he said

when he called yesterday morning?

One of you cops shot him, didn't you?

Just couldn't believe that he might actually be innocent.

Was he, uh, in any way

agitated or scared?

No. Not at all. Why would he be?

Anything at all that you remember could be of value to us.

"You're the greatest, Mrs. King. See you soon."

That was the last thing he said.

Then he waited for me to hang up first.

He always did that. He was a sweet boy.

[sighs] Okay. Thank you.

[office din]

- Thank you. - You're welcome.

Can I, uh, make some calls for you?

Uh, type up some reports?

- No, thanks. - You sure?

- Very. - Okay.

Two packets, Beau! Two packets.

This tastes like Early Grey's sweat socks.

Look how light it is. Come on, man.

Nothing personal, but if you're going to make it, make it.

- [phone ringing] - I got it! I got it! I got it!

[ringing continues]

Felton, Homicide.

Yeah, shoot.

Er, wait, wait, wait.

Thanks. Okay, go ahead.

Oh, okay. Great. Thanks.

Hey, Judy!

Uh, your-- your son called.

He says that, uh, he-- he needs the car tonight.

Well, he's not getting it. Thanks.

Beau? Pen.

Hey, partner. How you doing?

Yeah, they let me back in the nuthouse.

No, no, no. You rest up.

And I'll come by and I'll see you later.

Okay. All right. Bye.

The bullet entered the skull behind her left ear.

Entered from above and travelled straight down

through the left hemisphere...

and lodged in the jawbone.

- [Pembleton] Entered from above? - Yup.

The velocity of the bullet had already begun to slow.

It was on its way down. There's no powder residue.

Entrance wound is clean.

[Lewis] So where did she get shot from?

- The Goodyear Blimp? - [Dr. Dyer chuckles mockingly]

...40 caliber round. Fired at an angle.

Shooter could have been anywhere within a 200-, 300-,

400-yard radius of that food camp.

[Pembleton] Yup, we got a long search ahead of us.

No, not according to our Mrs. Burns.

At the scene.

According to her, all we got to do is go over

to the Washington Village projects and say,

"Eeny, miny, moe" and we got our culprit.

Well, she's got a point.

- Really? - Mmm-hmm.

What's that supposed to mean?

Statistically speaking, there's a strong likelihood

the bullet came from the projects.

Well that don't mean that this particular bullet came from the projects.

Let's wait and see what ballistics can tell us.

[saw buzzing]

- It's you! - Do I know you?

Listen, if I said something to you in a bar one night,

- no harm was intended. - It's you!

Wait 'till I tell Brigitta!

[Felton] Drummond went back to Bomb Squad.

Walker went back to Sex Crimes.

You're three men down. You need me, Gee.

- Don't flatter yourself. - You know I'm right.

- How's physical therapy? - A breeze.

Gee, c'mon. Help me out, will ya?

I gotta get back out there.

I feel like I've been benched.

- Banished. - You're not.

Let me ride shotgun, then.

[laughing]

You can't even walk.

That's not funny, Gee. That's not funny.

And I can disprove that theory because it's the doctors

that are making me carry these stupid crutches around.

I don't need 'em, watch this. See?

- [knocking on door] - Gee? Hey, Beau.

I got a call about a stabbing over in Pigtown.

No one here to take it.

- [phone ringing] - You're here.

Yeah, but I'm on my way out.

See, I got an interview with Mrs. Wasserman.

She lives on the first floor of Pratt's building.

Pratt got shot right in front of her door.

So maybe she heard something, I don't know.

Gee, coincidence? I think not.

- Come on, let me go out and handle this one, will ya? - No.

I'll take it.

- But you can come along. - [Felton exclaims]

- Get your crutches. - I'm getting my crutches, Gee.

- Doctor's orders. - [Giardello] Come on! Come on!

I'm coming! I'm coming! I'm coming!

Six lines and grooves with a left twist.

Weighs in at 180 grains. ...40 caliber.

You're looking for a Smith and Wesson.

Could you be a little more specific?

[Westmoreland] More specific?

Yeah, like the shooter's name and address.

[snoring] Yeah!

- Thanks, West. - Sure.

The ME says that Battisto was hit from above.

The shot was fired from a distance

of at least several hundred yards.

The weapon used was a .40 S&W. So .40 S&W--

Yes, so now we hit the street, we ask around, we see who saw what.

Let's get a-- a print-out of all the Smith & Weston owners in the neighborhood.

Man, you ain't got to register no handgun in the state of Maryland.

Yeah, but if you bought it in state,

then it's gonna show up on the computer.

Yeah, and every one that shows up on the computer,

there's two dozen that don't, Frank.

That's not the way we catch culprits in this business.

Not off some damn list.

Well, we're gonna start in the projects.

Then why-- why in the projects?

We don't we start on the east side

of Fulton street where the white folks live?

- That's not logical. - That's not logical?

- No, no, we'll do the east side after-- - Hey, [indistinct].

...after we've done the projects.

You know what it sounds to me like, Frank?

It sounds to me like you're buying that old song

about how if a white person lays dead,

then a Black hand had to pull the trigger.

Oh, Meldrick. Come on. Come on, look at me.

I'm not Black. I'm not white. No, no, no, no.

I'm just a plain, old homicide detective.

What I'm doing, right now-- Thank you.

I'm using my experience,

my knowledge, my instincts

to bring down whoever killed Mrs. Battisto.

If you don't like that,

please, please, please,

go get yourself another partner.

- Nah, I'm not gonna do that. No, I'm not-- - [Pembleton] No, please!

Because Gee's already telling me I can't work with nobody.

You, you're stuck with me, brother.

You're using too much caffeine. That's your problem.

[indistinct radio chatter]

The victim's been identified as Lester Norris.

He and his drinking pal over there got into a disagreement.

- Something about a Pick-6 ticket. - Where's the weapon?

[Schanne] He tossed the knife in the gutter drain.

The kid saw the whole thing.

[Felton] You're gettin' good at this.

- Is the ME here? - He's waiting for you.

- You okay? - I'm okay. What have you got?

- Detective Felton. Welcome back. - Hello, Lieutenant.

[Scheiner] Multiple stab wounds.

Massive blood loss. Roll him.

[tense music playing]

Victim has multiple lacerations

on his cheeks and forehead.

Looks like somebody played tic-tac-toe on his face.

Hey, Officer Schanne, take your vacation yet?

[Schanne] Sure did. Club Med Cancun.

It was wild. Non-stop "name your poison."

Yeah, sounds great. I'll have to check it out.

Beau, go chat with those kids. Find out who saw what.

Hasta luego, Officer.

[*]

Hello.

[retching]

[coughing]

[breathing heavily]

[Bayliss] Aww, come on! I had an apple in here, damn.

Hey, one of you guys eat my apple?

Morning, Tim!

Oh, hey, John.

You make an arrest in that Pratt case, yet?

No, I haven't, Frank.

Talked to Pratt's neighbors.

Talked to the mailman.

Talked to the block homeless woman.

Talked to Dispatch.

I even listened to the 911 tapes.

[sighs] Now I guess what I'll have to do

is I'll have to interview the cops

who were on duty at the time.

You know, and then what I guess I'll have to do after that

is interview all the thousands of cops

who were off duty at the time!

You know, just kind of narrow it down.

- That's what I'll do. - That's a good idea.

Well, if you got a better idea Meldrick, please,

please, don't hold it back.

You see, you see, I was here at the time

when the call came in, which I took.

Where were you?

[Lewis sniffs]

Climbing into the bed of a poker pal.

[chuckling]

A female poker pal.

A warm bed.

Yeah, I've been playing a lot of poker recently, Timmy.

You should try it, it's a good way to meet women.

I went to the Crown Station

near Johns Hopkins for some...

uh, gasoline.

- John? - [phone ringing]

[Munch] We're talking about yesterday morning?

Uh, let's see. I went to visit Stan.

At the hospital. I had to break curfew and sneak in.

And then I went to

Ikaros.

There's nothing like spanakopita and ginger ale

to kick off your day.

- [knocking on door] - [Bayliss] Gee?

[Bayliss sighs]

- I want off the Pratt case. - No.

[Bayliss] Look, the neighbors didn't hear anything.

Mrs. Wasserman was out walking her terrier.

I talked to beat cops in the area, I got nothing.

Whoever shot Pratt knew what I'd be looking for

and left me zip, there is nothing.

Nothing, all right, there's no evidence,

there's no witnesses, there's nothing!

Uh, Meldrick was home asleep.

Felton went to therapy, then he went home.

Walker was in DC with her boyfriend.

Drummond and his wife had the grandkids for the week.

Pembleton was here and then he was out getting gas.

Bolander and Howard aren't allowed

to leave their hospital beds and...

Munch was out having breakfast or something.

Follow up on the alibis.

You really want me to investigate

my fellow officers, my friends?

It doesn't have to be okay with you Bayliss.

You just have to do the job.

[sighing]

You know, I don't wanna close this case.

I don't wanna know where this thing is going.

No one does, Gee. You don't want to.

Okay. Okay.

Tell me this one thing, all right?

Out of all the detectives in this unit,

why does this have to be me?

Let's face it, Tim. You're just not a lucky guy.

Oh.

Who's next?

Uh, Myra Whittaker.

She, uh, bought a Smith & Wesson

from Carter's Gun and Ammo in 1982.

She probably goes out on drive-by shootings

after afternoon tea.

[indistinct] knock--

You looking for me?

- Are you Myra Whittaker? - How did you know?

[Lewis] We're police officers, ma'am. It's our job to know.

Well, I guess you'd better come in.

Mrs. Whittaker, do you own a Smith & Wesson?

I can't live like this anymore.

- Live like what? - With the guilt.

[Lewis] Ah.

Mm-hm.

...40 caliber rounds.

Have you fired this gun recently?

That's why you're here, isn't it?

Can't get nothing by you, Mrs. Whittaker.

We're gonna have to ask you to let us take this gun, okay?

Don't you want to see the body first?

What body?

I didn't mean to shoot him.

Well, yes, I did.

- [Lewis] Shoot who? - Theodore Archer.

- Of course. - We were dating.

And what happened?

He came over for lunch a day and a half ago.

I made him a brisket sandwich.

He really enjoyed my brisket.

We were having a lovely time. Everything was going so well.

- 'Til you shot him? - Well, that was his own fault.

- How was that? - He told me he was going to the movies with Eva.

- Eva? - My sister.

So you shot him

because he went to the movies with Eva, your sister?

I guess you could say it was a crime of passion.

Would you boys like to stay for supper?

It'll take no time at all to defrost this brisket.

[smacks lips] No.

[office din]

[indistinct conversation]

See you later.

You all right?

- [clears throat] Yeah. - You're sure?

Uh, I'll be doing a lot better

as soon as the throbbing stops in my shoulder.

I don't mean your shoulder.

Going on that murder case was tough.

It showed on your face.

Gee, I really don't need to hear this crap right now.

- Listen to me, Beau. - Just back off!

- Back off! - [can clattering]

[tense music playing]

Felton,

throw another can in my direction,

and I'll break your arm so fast

you'll be back playing with shapes in rehab.

Sorry.

[Giardello] I'm sick of covering for you.

- What the hell is that supposed to mean? - Just listen to me.

Your marriage has been falling apart as long as anybody can remember.

You come to work looking as if you crawled through every bar in Baltimore.

This is my first day back after getting shot.

- I'm up for the job. - You weren't up to the job before you got shot.

That's my point.

That's the truth. It's time someone told you.

Two weeks at your desk.

When you're ready to come back to your job, be back.

All the way back.

You understand what I'm saying, Beau Felton?

Yes, sir.

Pembleton, Lewis, you found the shooter?

Well, not the shooter. We found a shooter.

A woman named Myra Whittaker shot her boyfriend,

and then stuffed his carcass in the freezer.

- Congratulations. - Well, thank you.

When you've finished basking in this afterglow,

perhaps you could tell me about the Battisto case.

Well, [indistinct], it's just, you know, moving on,

slowly, but surely, we're trudging through it.

Money Frank is on top of things.

You know, it might help if I had a partner who didn't whine so much.

But hey, hey, let's not get caught up in the details!

What are you doing? What are you talking about, whining?

In my office. Working well together, are we?

Don't let me have to ask twice.

- Frank? - We're working well together, yes.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm right by his side every step of the way.

This, uh-- I'm his faithful Tonto, that's me.

Catch me up.

Uh, we ran a check by zip code

of every resident in the area

with a legally purchased handgun or a weapons violation.

What are the odds that the shot was fired

with a legally-purchased weapon, Frank?

I followed the most reasonable line of investigation.

It is a process of elimination.

- I'm biased? - Listen to me.

What, am I the primary here or what?

- Who is this? - Listen to me!

Your puffed-up egos are making me sick.

You're supposed to be helping each other.

That's the whole point of having a partner.

- Gee, excuse me, but-- - Remember? Remember?

Now, what I want you to do,

and I don't care if you get along together or not,

I just want you to close the case.

- Okay. Okay. - Close the case.

Close the case, close the case, close the case.

- I think I get it. - Close the case, close the case.

[traffic din]

- You want a beer? - Beer? I don't know.

Do you? I mean, it's still light out.

Eh, we'll split a pint.

Good. Can't do any harm, right?

How about you help me out on the Pratt murder?

[scoffing] Conflict of interest 104.

"Never get involved in a homicide investigation

of someone who tried to kill you."

Yeah. That makes sense.

You know, John, I was at Ikaros earlier today.

And I was talking to these two waitresses

who were working yesterday.

And no one remembers ever seeing you.

- No kidding? - Yeah.

Hmm, well, maybe it was, um,

Zorba's or, um, the Aegean.

Geez, I could've been driving around

in a regressive purple haze.

There's documented cases of that happening, you know.

- [Munch chuckling] - Yeah.

- Did you have breakfast or not? - [glass thuds]

You want my gun, Detective? I carry a Glock, just like you.

Wanna check it out, see if it has been fired recently?

Huh? Go ahead.

[tense music playing]

Yeah.

I got to make a phone call.

Ah.

Well, look at it this way.

At least we put down a stray murder, huh?

We didn't put it down, Meldrick. We stumbled upon it.

Have you got the list of owners

of Smith & Wessons in the Union Square area?

This system's down. We're gonna have to wait a while.

Yeah, well, it's gonna be a pretty short list.

Because you know people of the white persuasion

aren't as partial to guns as you and I are, huh?

Uncle Frank?

You know, I know what your problem is,

you just can't admit that maybe I'm right.

Well, you aren't right

yet, Meldrick.

[sighs] At least we're conducting

an equal opportunities search.

Let me know when you're back online, huh, Frank?

[men laughing]

You ought to be ashamed of yourself.

Way to go, big boy!

[laughing continues]

[Giardello cackling]

Hey, Munch!

[all laughing]

[all snickering]

I gotta hand it to you, baby. You got some nerve on you.

[Lewis laughing]

Hey, would you autograph this for me?

- What are you talking about? - And-- and put the date on there.

And something personal. You never know, it might be valuable in the future, huh?

What is going on around here?

- What, you don't know? - No, I don't.

- You ain't been across the street? - No, I haven't.

Is there something across the street I should know about?

Yeah, you need to take a look at the photo exhibit in the gallery over there.

- [Munch] I do? - Yeah, absolutely.

Go right in the back. Up against the--

You'll know-- you'll know what I'm talking about.

You know, I would never have the nerve

to have done something like that. [laughs]

- Something like what? - And you know what,

I thought you was all talk, you big fella!

Oh, Munchkin.

Oh, guess I can't call him that anymore, huh?

[Lewis chuckling]

[traffic din]

[woman] Hi, there.

- Pretty cool, huh? - Where did this come from?

- Brigitta. - Brigitta? Brigitta who?

Oh, don't you play sly with me.

Brigitta Svendsen.

Blonde, statuesque, peevish?

- [woman] That's the one. - Where is she?

Well, she'll be here tonight.

We're having a reception for a Baltimore opening.

I'll be back.

Will you be coming as you are

or as you once were?

[Munch] I'm naked! My dingle is blowing in the wind!

- I saw. - You saw?

Why do you think I was smiling? You make everyone smile, John.

- You're not smiling. - Oh, really?

I thought I was.

You're being much too sensitive.

Anyway, it was your choice

to make a public display of yourself.

I was a different person then.

People are laughing at me, Gee.

I'm a homicide detective. All's I have is my credibility.

With my picture at that exhibit over there,

how can anybody respect me?

Oh, look at it this way, you're providing an example

to your younger colleagues.

An example?

For every indiscretion you make as a youth,

you'll pay for it as an adult.

[Giardello laughing]

[distant sirens wailing]

[Bolander snoring]

[woman speaking indistinctly on PA]

[Bolander snorts]

Can I get you something, Stan?

This food is killing me.

Well I'll go out and get something, sneak it back in to you.

- I doubt it. [sighs] - What do you mean?

I mean you'd get caught. That's what I mean.

I wouldn't get--

- Do you know me? - Munch, you idiot!

Munch! You said my name! Munch!

Your memory's back!

[laughs] That's great.

Yeah, yeah. My memory's back. God help me.

- Margie, what did they say? - I found the doctor.

He said your CAT scan shows the swelling went down

around the frontal lobe.

That's what caused your memory loss.

[Munch] The old Stan's back.

So I think it's time for me to head home to Santa Barbara.

[woman speaking indistinctly on PA]

- Munch. - [Munch] What?

- Get out! - What?

My ex-wife and I would like to say our goodbyes privately.

Sure. Sure, I understand. I'll see you outside.

Okay, man. Welcome back.

[woman speaking indistinctly on PA]

- Margie, I-- - Stanley--

[Margie chuckles]

Can you sit for a minute?

- You're going to be okay. - Yeah, I'll be fine.

I could stay for a few more days.

No, you've got a life to get back to.

I'm glad you came.

Last night I was lying here

trying to remember something, anything.

Stanley, you never did have a very good memory.

- It didn't take a bullet. - Yeah, well, uh--

I tried to remember the name of the buck-toothed kid

who sat next to me in third grade.

Uh-uh.

I didn't remember my street.

I couldn't think of who starred in Have Gun - Will Travel.

But I remembered you.

- Me? - Yeah.

Standing at that bus stop...

on a windy day. [scoffs]

You had on a scarf.

It had little dogs on it.

And-- and that blue pea coat.

Dark navy with gold buttons on it, you know?

I can remember thinking you were the most...

beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

Standing there, shivering, in that navy pea coat.

That was the day we met.

I mean, the harder I tried, the worse it got.

[stammering] There I was, you know.

What's my name? Uh-uh.

[chuckles] What-- what happened to me?

But I could see you. I could--

You were, boy, plain as day.

Like a photograph.

In that navy pea coat.

You still got that coat?

Not for years.

- No? What happened to it? - I don't know.

I probably gave it to the Salvation Army,

10-15 years ago.

A coat like that,

you'd think it would last forever.

[Margie sighs]

I guess you've got to be going, huh?

Yeah. Now, you call me.

- Let me know how you're doing. - Sure.

[whispers] Bye, Stanley.

[whispers] Goodbye.

[door clicks close]

[office din]

- Frank. - Yeah?

[chuckles] Gordon Pratt's a bad guy, right?

- Mm-hm. - Yeah.

No one's losing any sleep over this, right?

Only you.

Because you think that one of us shot him.

Well, don't you?

It doesn't matter what I think.

As far as Gordon Pratt is concerned, I have no opinion.

All I know is he was driven in his own perverted mind

to make the world a better place for losers like himself.

Made his poison...

more dangerous than most.

If-- if this was your case, you'd be thorough.

- Eh. - No, you would.

You'd do your job no matter what.

But, you see, I keep, uh,

thinking about the arabber.

I keep thinking about what he did to Adena Watson.

You know, he lives day to day

while she rots away in the ground in Greenmont cemetery.

Or that Wilgis woman.

That Wilgis woman kills eight people,

but she is happily whiling away her time

at Sheppard Pratt with the other loonies.

- Doesn't seem fair, does it? - No, it doesn't.

But who am I to say?

I mean, I'm not God.

I mean, we could...

go about seeking revenge,

and if we're smart, we're not ever gonna get caught.

But that makes us like terrorists...

making up our own rules.

What's the difference?

- What's the difference? - Yeah.

We're the good guys.

Right.

[Lewis grunts]

We've been to 20 houses in this neighborhood. Nothing.

Yeah, well, we didn't find the shooter

in the projects now, did we?

- No, that's true. - Who's next on the list?

Uh, Rafferty, Quentin.

- Quentin Rafferty. - What's his first?

- Quentin or Rafferty? - His name is Quentin Rafferty.

He bought a Smith & Wesson back in, uh, November.

- Can I help you? - Quentin Rafferty?

- Yes. - Uh, I'm Detective Pembleton,

this is Detective Lewis.

We're investigating the murder of Jean Battisto.

- Come on in. - Thanks.

- Here, [indistinct]. - No, thank you.

These detectives are here about Jean.

- Hello. - [Pembleton] Hello.

Uh, I was just making some meatloaf

to bring over to her family.

Did you find who killed her?

[Lewis] No, ma'am, we haven't found a killer yet.

What we're doing is canvassing the neighborhood,

talking to people who have the same type of weapon

that was used in the Battisto case.

Uh, we have a computer file that tells us

that there is a Smith & Wesson weapon in this household.

Do you own a Smith & Wesson, Mr. Rafferty?

Yes, I do.

A man has to protect his family, doesn't he?

I keep the gun locked up.

It's supposed to be here.

I keep it locked in this drawer!

What do you mean it's not there?

I mean, it's not here!

- The drawer is empty. - Well, if it's not in the drawer,

where the hell is it, then?

Do you have any children?

Robin? Come here, sweetheart.

We're making a space station, Daddy.

[Quentin] Oh, good.

Robin, these people are trying to figure out

what happened to Mrs. Battisto.

- She got killed. - No, I know she did, sweetheart.

You know the desk downstairs in the living room?

I had something in the drawer. And it's gone now.

I know what was in the drawer, daddy.

It was a gun.

Did you touch that gun, Robin?

- You won't be mad? - No, sweetheart.

I just-- I just want to know where you put it.

Where did you put that gun, Robin?

Under my pillow.

I was gonna put it back.

I just wanted to show Billy.

Never touch this gun again.

Ever! Understand?

I'm sorry.

I was very, very careful.

Robin, did you shoot this gun?

I didn't know there were any bullets in it,

but I was careful.

I pointed it up to the sky, just in case.

I'm sorry, Mommy. It was an accident.

I'm sorry!

[Quentin] We hear gunfire all the time around here.

The bullet that killed Jean didn't have to come from my gun!

[traffic din]

[hippy music playing]

- John! - Brigitta Svendsen.

I never thought I'd ever see you again for the rest of my life.

So? You happy to see me?

No. You're embarrassing me.

How am I embarrassing you?

Don't you think that it would have been nice,

that it would have been right, if you had asked my permission?

Your permission for what?

To have me naked as a jaybird in front of the world.

My reputation is ruined.

I'm a homicide detective, right across the street.

This is about revenge, isn't it?

[chuckles] Revenge?

I prefer to think of it as

artistic justice.

We were never supposed to have a future together.

We talked about this 25 years ago.

Well we never really finished our talk, John.

You left in the middle of the night.

Hmm, well.

I'm appealing to your warm side.

To your heart.

You have the biggest heart of anybody I know.

Well, you broke that heart.

I cried for two straight years.

Look, how can I make this right for you?

Uh, you wouldn't happen to be available

for dinner tonight, would you?

I'd rather shoot my dog than have dinner with you.

[laughs] What a lovely sentiment.

And justified, too, I might add, but...

is there something we can do about having me up there naked?

Is there no kindness left in Brigitta Svendsen?

No sense of forgiveness?

What do you want me to do?

I want you to do...

whatever in your heart.

I forgive you, John.

[crowd applauding]

- Thank you. - [crowd laughs]

It was nothing.

[crowd applauding]

[woman speaking indistinctly on PA]

[Munch laughs] Hey, Stanley!

How are you doin'?

[Munch sighs]

[Bolander] Can't sit there.

You can't sit there, either.

Stan, in case your memory's starting to fail you again,

when human beings sit down,

they need something to sit in or on.

- Have you read the city paper? - No!

Hmm? Have you seen it?

The living section?

"The evening reached a spontaneous...

climax, when artist Brigitta Svendsen

publicly altered one of her photographs

by taping a bit of paper over the...

genitalia of her subject, John Munch,

now a detective with the Baltimore Homicide Unit."

Well you did it, didn't you, huh?

You did it this time. You pushed her right to the edge.

Oh, yeah, I mean, it's one thing

to be naked with your penis in private, okay?

But to have you and your pudenda

right there in the Living section!

You've overstepped the bounds of decency and civility.

You are a public servant in this city.

This city affords you a good life.

- This really upsets you. - No, no, no.

I'm just thrilled for you, all right?

I never would have guessed that you cared enough to be upset.

John, you gotta stop doing things like this to yourself.

It ain't good. It ain't healthy!

Since when do you care about my health?

I don't!

It's the drugs!

Now get the hell out of here.

Yeah, right.

[Munch chuckling]

She put kind of a big piece of paper over there.

All right, thanks a lot.

Case closed, Frank.

Ballistics matched the bullet that killed Battisto

to Rafferty's gun.

The kid did it.

[clicks tongue] Too bad.

She's probably gonna have nightmares

when she gets older and realizes.

You know, it's kind of ironic, don't you think?

What's that?

Well, here we are running around all through the projects

and the shooter was three doors down from the victim,

in the white neighborhood.

You know, if I got the same case today,

same specs, same neighborhood...

I'd probably run the investigation the same way.

So would I, Frank.

[office din]

- [knocks on door] - Yep?

I've exhausted every possible lead,

theory and inspiration, you name it, on who shot Pratt.

Of course I'll look into all new information, as it comes in.

Glad to hear it.

Though I sincerely doubt that there will be any.

Pratt's name is going to remain in red, Lieutenant.

Won't help your clearance rate any.

No, it won't. Just wanted to let you know.

- You check out everyone's alibi? - Yes.

- Including Munch's? - Yep.

He's cleared?

He's clear.

Some cases get closed, some don't.

- Okay. - Okay!

Okay.

[somber music playing]

[song lyrics playing]

[*]