All language subtitles for Homicide.Life.on.the.Street.S04E05.Heartbeat.1080p.PCOK.WEB-DL.DD2.0.x264-NTb_track4_[eng]

[siren wailing]

- [officer] Let's keep moving.
- [Lewis] Where's the body?

[somber music playing]

- So what have we got?
- Cindy Fuller, 20 years old.

Strangled.
Fresh needle marks
on her left arm.

Traces of semen
pretty much where you'd expect.

[camera shutter clicking]

Pretty posh
for a shoot [indistinct].

- Does the girl live here?
- Uh, apparently not.

That's her friend,
Alexandra DeMoss.

So, what happened?

I don't know anything about it.

Well,
Cindy's your friend, right?

She freaked.
She shouldn't have freaked.

Oh, for crying out--
Hey, are we getting a name

on the lease here,
fellas, please?

Uh, Boomer Mason.

[Lewis] Did Boomer kill Cindy?

I told her,
"Count to ten and it's over."

- He raped her?
- [Alexandra] She freaked.

It was her first time.

She didn't think
it would be a big deal.

[Lewis] She--

so sold her booty
for some heroin,

is that what you're telling me?

Yeah, so,
what's the hype going for?

40 bucks?
40 bucks a spike, right?

I wish.

What, girls like you
can't afford the stuff?

- We're students.
- [Lewis] Students?

All right, so where did Boomer,
uh, Mason go to?

Straight to hell, I hope.

[theme song playing]

[music fades]

[traffic din]

I was at the dentist,
getting my deep cleaning.

I don't know
anything about a girl.

So, how does Cindy wind up
dead in your apartment?

- Must've been a mistake.
- A mistake?

So, she thought, "Oh, I think
I'm gonna get myself strangled"?

But she winds up
in the wrong apartment,

your apartment, to do it?

- Yeah, like that.
- [Lewis] Like that.

Look, your place
is a drugstore, okay?

High class junkies
come in there to cop,

rent space to shoot up,
buy fresh needles.

- You got the wrong Boomer Mason.
- We got a witness.

Sees Alexandra DeMoss
and Cindy Fuller

come to your apartment,
approximately 6:30 last night.

Now, you come out 20 minutes
later, looking scared.

Alexandra and Cindy,
they never come out.

No way! No shape or form.

Okay, all right.
I'll tell you what.

Let's have a chat
with your dentist.

What's his phone number?

What's his name?

Huh?

Oh, my, oh, my.

It looks like we done cracked
this case, Detective Mikey.

[office din]

[Dyer] Here's the autopsy report
on Ali Ben Mohammad.

- Hey, Alyssa.
- [Dyer] Hi.

You didn't have to bring that
all the way over here.

[scoffing]
I needed the exercise.

What are you talking about?
You're in great shape.

[scoffs] Well, not really.
But thanks.

Well, I'd better get back.

- Uh, bye.
- Later.

[Munch singing]

[singing continues]

Don't tell me you're watching
soap operas again?

Yeah, that's what we have
instead of a sex life, Munch.

- Leave us alone.
- [Pembleton] What about you?

How come
you're so musical this morning?

Today's no different
than any other day.
I'm still the same miserable me.

No, no. You were singing.

- [Munch] Was I?
- [both] Mm-hmm.

[Munch] I didn't realize.

- Oh!
- Oh, don't touch it, Munch!

You should take it home, Kay.
It's probably a stray.

You know, pets make
a better antidote to loneliness

than daytime drama, eh?

[Bayliss] Judy found
the thing under Gee's car.

- [cat meowing]
- Black cat walks
in front of you guys,

you-- you act like
nothing happened?

Well, what do you suggest
we do, Kay?

You know,
tie garlic around its throat?

Nah, you stand up,
close your eyes,

and you turn around nine times.

[scoffs] Oh, I get it.

You see the lost pussycat
as some kind of sign,

some feline embodiment
of ill fortune,

sickness and despair,

and only through
doing your little dance,

spinning blindly in circles,

can it help
to fend off impending doom?

Is that what you believe, Kay?

Don't say
you weren't warned, huh?

Munch, Howard, I want to
see you both in my office, ASAP.

What'd I tell you, huh?
Get rid of it.

[cat meowing]

So, you're feeling better?

About what?

[Bayliss]
About Mary being pregnant.

You haven't told anyone,
have you?

- No.
- [Pembleton] Good.

- So, are you?
- [Pembleton] What?

- Feeling better.
- Let's just drop it, okay?

Okay.

I just can't help feeling
that you're torturing yourself
for no good reason.

You know, keeping
this whole thing a secret

is not going to make the world
a better place to live.

All it's gonna do is
it's going to keep you
from celebrating, Frank.

Lewis and Kellerman,

in the course
of a sterling interrogation,

have unearthed an old crime.

Maybe.

Munch, you handle it,
Howard, you supervise.

- How old is this crime?
- [Giardello] Ten years.

Victim's a John Doe.
There's no known suspect.

And there's no known date
of commission for the crime.

I mean...

According to the source,
there's a body

buried over
at 67 Caroline Street.

[Lewis] In the basement.
It's an abandoned row house.

Look, I've got uniforms over
there now, digging up the place.

Why can't they do it?

We'd like to help you out, Kay.
We really would.

Yeah, we still gotta
take care of the paperwork
on the original case,

you know, we gotta talk
to the State's Attorney,
you know how it is.

We just don't have time,
at this particular moment,

to be tracking down ghosts
that maybe don't exist.

- Screw you, Meldrick.
- [Lewis laughing]

Who is the informant?

A Mr. Boomer Mason.

He sells dope
out of his apartment.

He killed a girl,

gave us the tip,
thinking we'd trade.

Some guy tells
some dope-dealing stranger

exactly where he buried a body?

Exact location, the address,
the basement, for God's sake?

It's a miracle.

Excuse me, Gee,
but this is a waste of time.

No such thing.

Every moment in life
is precious.

[elevator dings]

Uh...

oh, boy.

- Why the long face, Tim?
- Um, you ever have a friend

who is really
deeply troubled about something,

and you, as his friend,
you wanted to say
the right thing,

you know, the thing that
was gonna make him cheer up,

'cause he had
every reason to cheer up?

I mean, for God's sakes,
the guy's having a baby.

- Who's having a baby?
- I can't tell you.

That is what is so twisted.

You see,
the guy's having a baby,

and he won't even share
the news with his colleagues.

So, Mary's pregnant?

What?

Oh, no, no, no! No, no.
I didn't say that. Mm-mmm.

[sighs] Frank's your partner,
and I'm a detective,

and you're a bad liar.

[sighing] Captain, please.

I, uh, gave him my word
I wouldn't tell anyone.

- [elevator dings]
- I won't tell a soul.

Okay.

All I'm saying
is that if it might be bad luck

when a black cat walks in front
of your path, why take chances?

Kay, our lives
aren't ruled by omens.

Yeah, well why'd you wanna wear
your yellow socks

to that sergeant's exam, huh?

Hey, I like yellow.
I'm color-conscious.

It doesn't make me
superstitious.

No, you wanted to wear
those yellow socks

'cause you were afraid
if you weren't wearing 'em,
you'd flunk.

- Now admit it, Munch.
- I don't dwell in the land
of make-believe, I'm a realist.

- Sergeant.
- [Rogers] Sergeant.

You find anything?

Candy wrappers,
coke bottles, tin cans.

- No sign of a buried body.
- We're on a snipe hunt.

Have you checked the walls?

- Walls?
- Yeah, the walls.

You ask yourself,
if you were gonna bury a guy,

where would you do it?

In a cemetery.

Not me, I'd avoid the ground.

Look for something
a little sneakier,

a little more subtle.

- There.
- [Munch] What?

[Howard] You see,
the mortar's a different grade?

- [Munch] Yeah.
- [knocking on wall]

- Sound hollow to you?
- [knocking on wall]

Sounds hollow to me. Open it up.

All I'm saying is,

superstition is everything
we spent centuries

trying to escape.

The insane, the illogical,

the dark and spooky
corners of our souls.

We're not living
in the Dark Ages.

We are, in fact,
well into the "Fluorescent Era."

Take a gander, Sergeant.

[tense music playing]

Hey, look at this,
there's scratches on this.

He was trying
to claw his way out.

He was buried alive.

[camera shutter clicking]

Any sign of trauma?

Skeletal damage.
The cranium's intact.

Scheiner confirmed
the date of death.

- Approximately ten years ago.
- And how can he tell that?

Skeletized remains.

Humidity would speed up
the decomposition,

not to mention the worms.

Any idea who he was?

Well, according to
his personally engraved Timex,

his name was Eugene Elwin.

We ran a check.
Eugene Elwin
went missing ten years ago.

We checked medical records.
Uh, showed a broken leg
that matched the skeleton.

- It's the same guy.
- Eugene had a record.

He was arrested
six times for possession

of a controlled substance.

According to Missing Persons,
he vanished on June 26th, 1985,

as reported by his girlfriend,
Sharon Guinness.

23 Wolfe Street.
That's him before Jenny Craig.

This case'll go up in blue.

Ten years,
it should go up in rust.

- [Howard chuckling]
- Hey.

Find the girlfriend,
talk to her.

Okay, Gee.

[Russert] Hey, Frank.

[Pembleton] Hey, Captain.

Don't worry.

Don't worry about what?

Well,

the things
that really frighten us

are often the things
we want the most.

You know, in-- in my experience.

Captain, are you okay?

[sighing] Your secret's
safe with me, Frank.

[office din]

How long do you think
you could survive,

being buried
in a wall like that?

I don't know.
No food, no water. Maybe a week.

A week, stuffed in there
like human insulation.

I couldn't think
of anything worse.

Well, there's drowning,

all that water rushing
into your lungs.

I'll take drowning any day.

Once the moment comes,
it's over quickly.

But being buried alive,
it's slow, it's agonizing.

The walls close in on you.

You can't move,
you can't breathe.

You can't do anything except
listen to your own heartbeat.

- Imagine a week of that.
- Hey, John.

Sharon Guinness?

Over there. Station Four.

- Sharon?
- That's me.

I'm Sergeant Howard,
this is Detective Munch,

from the Baltimore City
Homicide Unit.

- Homicide?
- You recognize this?

It's Eugene's.
Where'd you find it?

Eugene is dead, Sharon.
He was murdered.

Oh, my God!

Sorry, Mrs. Shiffman.

I reported Eugene missing
ten years ago.

- And you just found him?
- It's not a perfect world.

Any ideas what happened?

We were supposed to have
dinner together that night.

It was our anniversary.
He never showed.

I thought he just stood me up.
Men are like that.

- Commitment terrifies them.
- They are pigs, all of them.

[Munch]
Whoa, whoa! Not necessarily.

Not each and every man.

Some of us have
some occasional virtues.

Eugene had trouble with drugs.

Maybe drugs had
something to do with his death?

No, he was clean by then.
No drugs.

[Howard] Any ideas of anyone
who would want to kill him?

No. Eugene was a sweet man.

Weak, but sweet.

Where were you the day
that Eugene disappeared?

- I told you, waiting for him.
- No, before that.

It was my day off.
I was living with my sister.

Thank you very much.

Do you think
Sharon killed Elwin?

No.

- Why not?
- She's too pretty.

[scoffs] You gotta be kidding.

Pretty girls don't have to kill.

They get
whatever they want anyway.

Listen, drop me off
at my place, will you?

We gotta go
check Sharon's alibi.

[sighs] It's important, Kay.
Cover for me.

- I've got a date.
- Again?

Well, I wasn't
going to tell you before,

on account of the amatory desert

that you presently inhabit,
but...

I'm in love.

[scoffs] You, in love?

- Yes.
- [Howard chuckling]

Does this poor girl have a name?

- Never mind.
- Oh, come on.

[sighs] Alyssa Dyer.

Dyer? The ME?

[laughing]
How did you ask her out?

She's cutting open
some poor stiff's spleen,

and you say, "Hey, babe,
how about some Chinese?"

Knock it off, Kay.

Alyssa is my Beatrice,

my Penelope, my Josephine.

I mean it. I'm serious.

Oh, please, Munch, I've seen
the wreckage of your love life.

Wife Number One, Gwen,
wife Number Two, Maria,

not to mention the various
and sundry girlfriends,

Felicia, Brigitta... [chuckling]

This time's gonna be different.
I'm gonna change my ways.

Oh, yeah, right.
What are you tellin' me here?

I will never look
at another woman again.

[upbeat rock music playing]

Hi.

You mind telling me
what's going on here, Officer?

- Is Alyssa okay?
- She's fine.

She called from work,
has to stay late.

She'll be back by about nine.
Nice zinnias.

And you are?

Serena Boch. Her new roommate.

Roommate? Since when?

Since about eight this morning.

Hey, look, would you mind
helping me with this mattress?

[Munch] Sure.

[Munch grunts]

- [Munch grunts]
- Oh! Sorry.

That's okay. My fault.

You got a lot of money
in this thing, or what?

[both grunting]

Hey, Sarge,
capture any bad guys today?

I talked
to Sharon Guinness' sister.

She said Sharon
was with her all night.

He scores!

What about that guy,
Boomer Mason,

you put down
for killing the girl?

You think he knows
more than he's telling?

Nah, he was trying
to save his ass.

I doubt he held anything back.

Why don't you pay him
a visit to City Jail?

While you're up there,
do your civic duty

and shoot the son of a bitch.

- Oh, Frank?
- Mmm?

Listen, I know I'm not
supposed to say anything,

but I gotta tell you,
I think it's great.

You and Mary, really terrific.

What have I done?

I've ruined everything,
that's what I've done.

In the same brief moment

that you initiate
your new abode,

I annihilate my relationship.

Just like that, boom!
Hiroshima, mon amour.

Hold on, let's not forget
who unhooked whose holster.

Shouldn't you be
putting some clothes on?

Oh, God!

This is a nightmare.

Oh, I'm a weak man.

I thought I had changed,

found true love, a pious future.

But then, you opened the door

in that damned uniform.

I was doomed, I was doomed,

like an addict in Amsterdam.

Like a retriever in heat.

You're overreacting.

I love Alyssa,

she's my angel
in a white lab coat.

- And you--
- I'm what?

- You're a cop.
- [keys jingling]

I hear keys.

Oh, God!

Oh! Hi. Sorry I'm late.
Been here long?

Not at all,
matter of minutes, mere seconds.

I was just in there
helping Serena unpack.

- She's taking a shower now.
- Uh-huh.

- She was hot
from all the unpacking. Here.
- Are you okay?

- Fine. Tip-top. Let's go.
- Uh, no. I-- I-- I gotta change.

- You look great.
- But, no--

- But, why?
- No, really!

- So you found the body?
- [Howard] We found the body.

Then that means
you've got a deal, right?

That means you-- I--
you get me out of here, right?

How do we know
you didn't put that body there?

Hey, if I did it, would I
tell you where to find him?

[Howard] Yeah, maybe, to get
your sorry ass outta here.

Tell us about
this guy that confessed to you.

I brought dope from him once,
maybe five years ago.

Where?

Down by that church
on Fayette and Green.

We were, um, sitting
on a bench, doing a rock,

and, um,
he just started talking.

I don't suppose
he told you his name, did he?

Not likely.

So why'd he
spill his guts to you?

I was there.

I think he felt guilty.

- [Howard] Guilty?
- Yeah.

He-- he had guilty eyes.

Yeah, what did he look like?

Uh, white guy, 53 maybe.

5'8", 5'9"...

red hair.

What color were his guilty eyes?

- Blue, I think.
- Yeah, anything else?

Marks? Scars?

He just looked guilty.
What can I tell you?

"Guilty" is not a description
we can put on a bulletin.

It was dark,
and we were gettin' high.

That's all I remember.
And what about my deal?

- Listen, moron--
- There's no deal.

Never was a deal,
never will be a deal.

Well, what-- What do you--
Wait a second!

Well, what is this?
There's a deal.

"There'll be no deal." What is--

Where-- where are
the two guys that made the deal?

I don't want
to make a deal with you!

I wanted two guys,
not a guy and a girl!

I did my part!

- What's the matter?
- Now, get them back!

- It's a deal!
- Nothing's the matter.

[laughs]
Oh, something's the matter.

Step back in, hotshot.
You'll get a deal!

[sighs] I had sex.

Well, congratulations.

Not with Alyssa,
with her roommate.

You slept with her roommate?

You slept with her roommate!

Yes, I did. Now, shoot me.

Well, I listen to you sing,
I let you leave early.

The next thing I know,
before you say boo,

you've got the roommate in bed?

- [Munch sighs]
- It's no wonder
two wives left you.

- I couldn't help it.
- Oh, you couldn't help it?

No, you chose not to help it.

Kay, I'm a man.
Men do these kind of things.

None of us could help it.

We're all prisoners
of our libido,

locked within lustful bodies,
unable to control our actions.

Do you think
Alyssa knows about it?

I don't want to talk about it.
I don't want anything
to do with it.

You don't think
Serena told her, do you?

I mean, that would be cruel,
wouldn't it, heartless?

I mean,
a man might tell another man,

even brag about it, but a woman
would be more sensitive,

more discreet,
not to mention more intelligent.

She wouldn't tell her,
would she?

I would.

[Dyer] John!

- Hey, Alyssa.
- Sorry.

Sorry, you burnt yourself?

Ah, I'll just
probably need a skin graft.

- I'll be all right.
- Where you been?

Oh, around, work,
home, doing the daily grind.

Did you know
they named this place after me?

I called your apartment,
I called the office,

I called the bar,
you disappeared.

It's this case with Kay,
it's ten years of mildew

to sweep through
until we find any facts.

I got worried
you were avoiding me.

- You wanna sit inside and talk?
- No.

I mean, I do, but I can't.

Kay's waiting for me upstairs,
across the street.

Upstairs in the--
the squad room.

- Come here a lot?
- No, first time.

Have a latte on me. I gotta run.
I'll call you later.

- That's what you said
last night.
- No, I will this time.

I promise I won't forget.

In fact, let's make
a date for, uh, tonight?

Eight o'clock?
Dinner at Webber's sound good?

- [Dyer] Sounds great.
- Great, see you there.

[phone ringing]

Lotta drug dealers in Baltimore.

A lot of addicts.

Yeah, Fayette Street
has more than its share.

Douglas Colton, two previous
counts of manslaughter.

- [Munch] Eyes.
- Uh, hazel.

Blue eyes, Kay.
Guilty blue eyes.

- She's haunting me.
- Who?

Alyssa Dyer.
Just now at the Daily Grind.

She bumps into me,
accidentally on purpose.

- It's a public place.
- It's my public place.

She's never been there before.

She knows.
I don't know how she knows.

Either Serena told her,
or she figured it out,

or she had
some telepathic message, or--

or some divine
inspiration from God.

I don't know how she knows,
but she found out,

and now she's trailing me around
Baltimore like a ghost.

Well, maybe
she actually likes you.

Listen to this, Joseph Cardero,

5'9", 160 pounds,

arrested four times
for selling dope.

All four busts,
same block on Fayette Street.

The first was ten years ago,
the last was three months ago.

- All roads lead
to Fayette Street.
- Mm-hmm.

- You guys seen Bayliss?
- [Munch] No.

Well, if you see him,
tell him I'm looking for him.

Hey, hey, hey, Frisky Frank!

'Bout time you popped
one in the old oven.

How long you
and Mary been together?

Eight long, barren years?

[Kellerman]
Congratulations, man.

You'll make
an impressive father.

- Frightening, but impressive.
- You seen Bayliss?

[Kellerman] He's in therapy.

Yeah, physical therapy
for his back.

Well, he's gonna need
more than therapy

when I get through with him.

[tense music playing]

What'd you say his name was?

Joe Cardero.

Just focus on the picture, okay?

Yeah, I know him.

Hangs over by the church.

[Howard]
You know Joseph Cardero?

[man] Cardero? Sure.

You ever seen
this guy with Cardero?

It'll be over ten years ago.

Can't say, a lot of people come
shopping around Fayette Street.

We're as popular as a mall.

Try the Mermaid Cafe.

Cardero writes about
the darker side of life.

- [Munch] He writes?
- Yeah, well, you know.

Everyone's a writer.

Cardero comes
in here sometimes and reads.

He'll probably be here tonight.

- Do you want to read his poems?
- [Munch] Sure.

"And when asked, the dog,

disparate and void of entity,

barked,
'It was dark, it was dark.'"

"Barked, 'It was dark'"?

What's the difference
between that bark and the bark
that says "I'm hungry"?

The bark that says, "Hey,
look at that bitch over there."

- [Howard chuckling]
- It's just a poem, Kay.

Yeah, well,
it doesn't make any sense.

It's stupid. It's idiotic.

Okay,
it's not Pulitzer material.

But what are you getting
so upset about?

I just want something
in this case to make sense, huh?

We're investigating
a ten-year-old homicide,

a man was murdered
with techniques

that were popular
in the 10th century.

Our chief suspect,
the bard of Fayette Street,

is clearly a babbling idiot.

That doesn't leave
a lot of room for sense.

What should I do about Alyssa?

The guilt is eating me up.

You know, Munch,
if you, uh, respect her...

you'll tell her the truth.

- [Munch] Confess?
- [Howard] Yeah.

I can't do that,
I don't want to hurt her.

[Howard laughing]

Why is it you men,
you do something wrong,

and then you say that the truth
is gonna hurt the woman?

You're just protecting yourself.

She would rather know the truth,
believe me.

Whatever else she'd feel,

she'll appreciate
knowin' the truth.

Give her an opportunity
to forgive you.

- Is that Cardero?
- [Munch] That's him.

[Howard] Joseph Cardero?

We're with
the Baltimore City Homicide.

You remember this guy?

Uh, "My friends forsake me
like a memory lost.

I am the self-consumer
of my woes."

Can you account
for your whereabouts

on June 26th, 1985?

Hey, Leon!

Where was I on June 26th, 1985?

[Leon]
You was hangin' with me, Joe.

Over by the doughnut shop
on Franklin Street.

Then we took
a long walk, remember?

Got blisters, we walked so far.

Up Charles,
down to the Inner Harbor,

back to Fells Point.

Get it straight.

I'm a poet.

That's all I know,
and all I need to know.

Oh...

[sighing]
She's not the literary type.

Sadly, I am.

So, let me give you
a little quote.

"He who lies to Munch

gets his sorry ass kicke'thd."

Bill Shakespeare.

[traffic din]

- Poe.
- Poe?

As in Edgar Allan Poe, a onetime
resident of this fair city?

Yeah, what about him?

I read some more
of Cardero's poems last night.

Most of them
are as lousy as the one we read,

but there was one of them
that was really good,

I mean, brilliant.

Trouble is,
Cardero didn't write it.

Edgar Allan Poe did.

So then I went back
and looked through more poems,

and I found more lines,
whole stanzas lifted from Poe.

So, the guy likes Poe.

So, you know
that church on Fayette Street,

in front of
which Cardero sells drugs?

- Mm-hmm.
- Guess who's buried there?

Poe.

Munch, look,

if Joseph Cardero
killed Eugene Elwin,

we still don't have a case,

unless we can find someone who
puts Cardero at the crime scene,

or someone
who can at least put Elwin

and Cardero together
at some point.

- Hmm?
- Bet you didn't know
that Poe was afraid of women.

Most men are.

Pit and The Pendulum,
A Descent Into The Maelstrom,

tales about
the fear of a vagina.

Oh, is there a point to this?

[Munch] Poe wrote a story

about a man buried
inside a cellar wall.

Gee.

I want to put Cardero
in The Box, he'll talk.

[Howard] Oh, yeah, he'll talk.
He's a lunatic poet.

- He's got diarrhea of the mouth.
- I can break him.

- He's a dealer, right?
- [Munch] Yeah.

Go get the boys
in Narcotics to bust him.

He'll be out on
the street again in a blink.

I can't remember the last time
I witnessed such zeal

in your pursuit of justice.

Not in months, years.

Unfortunately...

you haven't got enough evidence.

In fact,
you haven't got any evidence.

What's wrong with taking a shot?

Well, you can question him
with nothing to go on,

and maybe lose him.

Or you can wait
to find something,

and question him,
and maybe bust him.

It's your choice.

Frank?

I know you to be a man
who worries about everything.

It's your nature,
you can't help yourself.

That's the reason
why you're a good detective.

You know,
it may be even the reason

why you're a great detective.

It's also the reason why
you're a screwed-up individual.

Let this thing go, Frank.

I mean, um...

having kids could be the--

the best thing
that ever happened to you.

Take it from me, when I--

when I think about my children--

Gee, Gee, Gee.

Where's Bayliss?

I haven't got a clue.

[mellow music playing]

[man whistling]

Morning, Officer.

- Detective.
- Whatever.

A man of the law,
that's what counts.

Keeping our streets safe.

- I love it.
- I bet you do.

- How's business?
- Well, what can I say?

Poetry sells.

Who's buried back there,
Cardero?

Uh, dead people.

How about a dead poet?

Poets never die.

Are you a poet?

"God made the sun hot...

God made these streets mean,

God made me a poet."

Ergo, poets die.

[*]

Do you ever think about what
it's like to be buried alive?

Closed up in a tiny little box,

walls closing in,
lungs screaming for air.

Complete darkness.

Nothing to listen to, except
the sound of your own heartbeat.

Just your heart,
beating faster and faster,

louder and louder.

[*]

[rat squeaking]

[Munch sighing]

[bricks clinking]

[keys thudding]

[upbeat jazz song playing]

[song lyrics playing from radio]

[gentle folk music playing]

[song lyrics playing from radio]

- [answering machine beeps]
- [Dyer] Hey, it's Alyssa.

- Oh, no!
- Thanks for the latte earlier.

All that caffeine,
I'm still feeling wired.

[laughing] I'll see you tonight.

[answering machine beeping]

- [answering machine beeping]
- [Dyer] Hi, me again.

I'm at Webber's.

Uh, you said eight, right?

Um, I'll try the office.

[answering machine beeping]

[Dyer] Hi, I'm home.
Back at my place. Call me.

- [answering machine beeping]
- [Dyer] Hi, it's Alyssa again.

- [answering machine beeping]
- [Dyer] Hi.

[dial tone]

[*]

[Howard] Ten years ago.

I was young.

You sold dope on Fayette Street.

I was stupid.

Now you're a model citizen.

- Exemplary.
- [heart thumping]

[Howard] Ten years ago,
you sold dope to Eugene Elwin.

[heartbeats getting louder]

[Cardero]
The names and faces blur.

[Howard]
Ten years ago, Elwin disappears.

I've got nothing on that.

Ten years ago,
someone kills Elwin

by burying him alive in
a basement on Caroline Street.

I-- I've got nothing
on that, either.

[Munch]
Then how come it's your name

Elwin scratched
on a wall before he died?

Eugene Elwin's last words,
the last thing on his mind, you.

That's not my name.
It's missing an "O."

- [Howard laughs]
- Don't get picky.

He was weak, he was dying.

Must be a lot of Carderos
in Baltimore.

[Howard]
No, as a matter of fact,
there's not too many.

We checked it out,
and there's none with
a connection to the deceased,

and none with a criminal record,
except you.

- [heart thumping]
- I'm not guilty.

Are you superstitious, Cardero?

No.

Pray continue, Sergeant Howard.
I'll be right back.

[thumping continues]

He's weird.

He's all right.

Hey, could I get
something to drink?

We're out. Machine's busted.

[heart thumping]

I'm thirsty.

I'm sorry.

[Cardero chuckling]

[door clicks open]

- [heartbeat getting faster]
- [cat meowing]

Get that thing away from me!

[Munch]
It's just a cat, Cardero.

- Get that damn thing
away from me!
- Say "hi."

What's the matter,
don't you like cats?

- [Cardero gasping]
- Ah!

I thought you said
you weren't superstitious.

"It will be remembered

that black cats
are all of them witches."

- [heart thumping]
- [Cardero breathes heavily]

[door clicks close]

Okay, come on.
Sit down, it's all right.

Uh-- I'm-- I'm telling you...

- he's weird.
- [Howard chuckling]

- He's--
- [Howard] Maybe you're right.

- He's--
- [thumping continues]

[Howard] What did Elwin do
to piss you off?

Huh? Uh, nothing.

[Howard] Nothing?

He must have done something.
You don't kill somebody
over nothing.

Unless it was an accident, huh?

- Was it an accident?
- [hear thumping]

- No.
- [door clicks open]

[Howard]
Did you kill him on purpose?

N-- no.

[Howard] Was it on purpose
or an accident?

Uh, neither.

I'm not following you.
How else do you kill someone?

I didn't kill him.

Nah, you just bricked him up
into a wall, right?

[Munch]
Ever read The Tell-Tale Heart?

No.

- Yes.
- Well, which is it?

- Yes.
- Oh.

Our hero kills a man...

buries him under the floor.

- The cops come.
- [heart thumping]

All our hero can hear
is the thump-thump-thump

of a beating heart
beneath the floorboards.

Hmm.

Poe had a fertile imagination.

You admire him?

Poe was a visionary.

Poe, being a fellow poet
and drug addict and all.

He died in the gutter,
didn't he,
right here in Baltimore.

- [Cardero] Yes.
- Is that why you always work
the same corner,

- right in front of his grave?
- Yes.

So that spot on Fayette Street,
in front of his grave,

- that's your good luck spot,
isn't it?
- Right.

So what you're telling us
is you are superstitious.

[chuckles] Okay, okay.

- I'm superstitious. So what?
- [Howard] Mm-hm.

Have we established what it was
Elwin did to piss you off?

- He stole my book.
- What book?

The Selected Poetry
and Prose Of Poe.

It-- it had my name in it...

"Ex-libris,
Joseph Cardero."

Your lucky book. Your muse.

I'll bet that really
screwed up your inspiration,

when you didn't get it back,
being a poet.

Hello, Joe!
Are you still with us?

- That book was mine.
- [Howard] Absolutely.

He wouldn't give it back!

[Munch] So, you killed him.

[heart thumping]

I didn't-- I didn't do it.

I'm a poet.
Poets don't kill people.

[Munch]
You ever hear of poetic justice?

Here's poetic justice.

You killed him,
but you can't escape him.

Every day, every night,

you hear the beating
of his heart.

His heart won't die.

It just keeps on
beating and beating

and beating and beating.

- I didn't do it.
- [heart thumping]

And no sorry-ass
tape recording's

gonna make me say I did.

I know the truth.

And the truth...

is gonna set me free.

[heart thumping]

[door clicks close]

[thumping continues]

Turn it off, Judy.

[office din]

He's guilty.

- He's free.
- Sometimes I hate my job.

It'll pass.
We'll all get over it.

We'll forget about Cardero,
we'll forget about Eugene Elwin,

and his lovely girlfriend,
Sharon.

Time heals all wounds, right?

Not quite.

As per your advice,

I'm gonna go
tell Alyssa the truth.

I can't live like this anymore.

- You told Russert.
- Excuse me?

About the baby.

Oh, she says that I told her?

No, she doesn't say,
but I can tell she knows.

And the only way
she knows is if you tell her,

which means you told her,
which means you betrayed me.

- You betrayed our confidence.
- Frank, listen, I-- Frank--

I am your partner.
You get that? Your partner.

How can you say
these things about me?

How can you even think
these things about me?

Shame on you.

Do you think
that I would betray you?

I would never betray you.

You not only told Russert,
you told Howard,

Giardello, Lewis and Kellerman.

- I did not.
- Then Russert did,
which still makes you guilty.

I hope you
and your back rot in hell.

[heart thumping]

[Cardero breathing heavily]

[thumping continues]

[Cardero grunting]

[Cardero panting]

[thumping fades]

[heart thumping]

[Cardero shouts] Stop it!

[thumping continues]

[Cardero grunting]

[Cardero screaming]

- [Bayliss] Beer, Frank?
- [Pembleton] Huh?

It's free.
You know, on the house?

You know, listen, Frank.

Let's--
let's suppose that, you know,

just for a second, that I did...

tell, um, you know,
I unconsciously let slip
to Russert that--

that Mary was pregnant,
and that she told everyone else

because she can't keep
her big mouth shut.

I mean, I didn't, of course.

But suppose that I did.

I-- I'm curious,
what's the big deal?

I don't have many friends, Tim.

Not many people
I could trust with a--

a secret.

Mary and, um...

you, that-- that's about it.

Why are you bein'
so uptight about this?

I don't understand.
You know, you--

you should be happy.

Look, I made a mistake,

which is my fault,
I trusted you.

But we learn from our mistakes,
so consequently,

it's gonna be a long, long time
before I trust you again--

- No, no, no, lis--
- No offense, but look.

Go on back to the bar
and finish your beer.

I'll see you tomorrow, okay?

Hey, Frank!

- Look--
- Go on back to the bar, man. Go.

[Munch singing]

Hey, John, what happened to you?

- I was wounded in a duel.
- A duel?

I told Alyssa.

- She hit you?
- With a roundhouse.

Boy, that woman is strong.

I love her even more.

You should have seen her eyes,
all glowing with rage.

It was wild.

Forgive me,
John, it was my idea.

I-- I feel terrible.

I don't, I feel great.
No more guilt.

Now I can start over.

Now I can try
to win her back again.

Nothing bestirs a man
like a grand and noble quest.

- [laughs] Good night, John.
- Good night, Kay.

[Munch singing]

[tool scraping]

[rat squeaking]

[eerie music playing]

"By a route obscure...

and lonely...

Haunted by ill angels only...

By a spot...

most unholy..."

[Cardero grunts]

"In a nook...

most melancholy...

There the traveler
meets aghast...

Sheeted memories of the past...

Shrouded forms
that start and sigh,

as they pass the wanderer by...

White-robed forms of friends...

Long given...

in agony...

To the Earth...

and Heaven."

[eerie music playing]

[*]