Original subtitles

[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]

[*]