All language subtitles for csi.ny.s07e19.dvdrip.xvid-reward.EN+

♪ Have a banana, Hannah ♪

♪ Try the salami, Tommy ♪

♪ Get with the gravy, Davy ♪

♪ Everybody eats
when they come to my house ♪

♪ Try a tomato, Plato ♪

♪ Here's cacciatore, Dory ♪

♪ Taste of baloney, Tony ♪

♪ Everybody eats
when they come to my house ♪

♪ I've fixed your favorite dishes ♪

♪ Hopin' this good food fills ya ♪

♪ Work my hands to the bone
in the kitchen alone ♪

♪ You better eat if it kills ya ♪

♪ Pass me a pancake, Mandrake ♪

♪ Havin' a derby, Irvy ♪

♪ Look in the fendel, Mendel ♪

♪ Everybody eats
when they come to my house ♪

Hannah!

Davy!

- [bell dings]
- Order up for Hawkes.

- Uh, Hawkes, order up.
- Yeah. Yeah, that's me.

- There you go.
- Thanks.

Let me have
the number three special, please.

- Go on.
- What is it?

[Camille]
It's called Spudtastic.

Kennebec fries
mixed with artisan cheese curds

and a foie gras gravy.

- You gotta be kidding me. Hey.
- It's so good.

[chuckling]

- Would you try it?
- You first.

I promise you won't regret it.

- Besides, I'm a trained nurse, remember?
- Mm-hmm.

- Anything goes wrong--
- Yeah?

... I know mouth-to-mouth.

- You do?
- Yeah.

♪ Everybody eats
when they come to my house ♪

- [chuckles]
- [mutters]

- This is really good.
- See?

- Gotta experience new things.
- Well, who knew?

I'm really happy you played hooky today
with me, Sheldon.

You were always a bad influence, Camille.

- Come here.
- But I like that.

Fascinating.

- Mmm.
- What?

- Lardon.
- Lardon.

They do a BLT with blue cheese
and cherry tomatoes.

- It'll blow your mind.
- [people screaming]

[people clamoring]

♪ Out here in the fields ♪

♪ I fight for my meals ♪

♪ I get my back into my living ♪

♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. ♪

[siren wailing]

[people shouting]

[grunting]

Camille, Camille, are you okay?

- [coughs] Yeah. I'm okay.
- Can you sit up?

- Are you sure?
- I'm fine.

Oh, my God.

[groaning]

[Sheldon] There's some people over there
that need our help. Let's go.

You get her. I got him.

- Come on, come on. We gotta get outta here.
- You're gonna be okay, sir.

- You all right?
- You're okay. Lie down over here.

All right.

- [sirens continue]
- [police radio chatter]

- [chattering]
- [camera shutter clicking]

[chattering]

[helicopter overhead]

That's Derby Chasen.
He was serving up gourmet grub

from inside this World on Wheels truck
when it blew.

You're gonna be fine.

Any other fatalities?

Amazingly, no.
Meanwhile, the feds are circling.

You think we're looking
at an act of terrorism here?

Based on the position
of the truck and the time of the blast,

if someone wanted to cause
maximum damage and loss of life,

this sure doesn't feel like
the time and place to do it.

[Flack] Maybe we're looking
at a truck malfunction then.

I'll pull the vehicle inspection report,
see what we get.

Don't waste your time.

I just found traces
of triacetone triperoxide.

- Doesn't sound too appetizing.
- It's not.

TATP is a powerful explosive
made from household chemicals.

Any nut-job can get the recipe online.

It's basically the reason
why you can't bring liquids onto planes.

But why gourmet food trucks?

Yes, we treated a lot of scrapes and bruising
before these guys showed up.

Some dizziness, hearing loss--

And, uh, most of the injuries were
shock related and pretty minor, considering.

It's a miracle you both walked away.

But I thought you called in sick today.
Didn't you?

Yeah. About that. I, uh--

Save all that for Mac.
Make sure these gentlemen

give you a clean bill of health
before you come back to work.

All right.

Blast pattern suggests it originated
from the side panel.

This is where the propane tank
would've been.

[Jo]
Built-in bomb.

All you need's an ignition source.

When we piece together
the rest of this shrapnel,

it might be able to tell us something.

[sighs] We've got so much
propane tank shrapnel here.

We're gonna be lucky
if we get out of here by dinnertime.

- Hungry?
- I'm starving.

It was all I could do to get a banana
into Lucy this morning.

I don't even remember the last time
I actually sat down and ate breakfast.

Whoa. What about the feast
that we brought you in bed?

That was Mother's Day,
two years ago.

Two? Really? Wow.

I'll get you something tasty
as soon as we're done.

I want a bowl of grits,
two eggs over medium, and sausage,

and wheat toast with a lot of butter
from that soul food place on Bleecker.

And I want a double cheeseburger
with large fries

and a Creamsicle float from that place
in Madison Square Park.

[chuckles]

That's it?

I'm not pregnant, just hungry.

[Man]
If you find a body, get a positive ID.

[Man #2]
Okay.

How you doing, Doc?

If it's any consolation,
I would've taken the day off for her, too.

- Yeah.
- Got some leftovers?

Maybe.

Order of contents are usually written
on the outside of a take-out box, right?

- Yeah. Usually.
- Tell me this.

Why write on the inside?

Hmm.

- How's it going, Sid?
- Oh, Mac.

Derby Chasen's death
was obviously caused

by the concussive force of the blast

combined with severe burns
and smoke inhalation.

But in this case at least,

it also appears our young chef's apron

did more than just keep his clothes clean,

it kept them intact,

which is significant
because the apron's rubber lining

prevented the flames
from coming into direct contact

with the vic's T-shirt
where it covered his torso.

And as a result, it also protected this.

[Mac]
Some kind of thoracic contusion.

Yeah. The pattern looks familiar,

but I can't quite place it.

What I can tell you is
it was probably painful

and still relatively fresh.

Delivered not more than four
to five hours prior to death.

Suggesting he may have had
an altercation the same day he died.

But who hit him? And with what?

[phone ringing]

- [beeps]
- Hey.

Hey. You busy?

Just about to run some evidence.
What's up?

I'm throwing a party,
and I want you to come.

[chuckles]
Babe,

didn't we just almost die?

Why do you think I'm throwing a party?

It's just a few old friends
I haven't been able to see.

Would love them to meet you, Sheldon.
9:00?

Oh, Camille, no, no, no.

- I got a bunch of work to do.
- Oh, come on. Please, please.

Please, Sheldon.

Please? Please?

Okay, okay. No-- Stop, stop, stop.

I'll come.
Let me figure something out, okay?

All right. Bye.

- [chuckles]
- [beeps]

[beeping]

♪ Robert's got a quick hand ♪

♪ He'll look around the room ♪

♪ He won't tell you his plan ♪

♪ He's got a rolled cigarette ♪

♪ Hangin' out his mouth, he's a cowboy kid ♪

♪ Yeah, found a six-shooter gun ♪

♪ In his dad's closet ♪

♪ Hidden in a box of fun things ♪

♪ I don't even know what ♪

♪ But he's comin' for you ♪

♪ Yeah, he's comin' for you ♪

♪ All the other kids
with the pumped-up kicks ♪

♪ You better run, better run, outrun my gun ♪

♪ All the other kids
with the pumped-up kicks ♪

♪ You better run,
better run faster than my bullet ♪

[Danny]
Is there a hungry lady in here?

[chuckles]

I got the burger you wanted.

- Bring it in here.
- Can't. No food in the labs, remember?

[scoffs]
Danny, I can't come out right now.

- I think I just found something.
- What do you got?

I found these dark splotches on the surface
reconstruction of the propane tank.

Here. Check it out.

Looks like it could be hardened gel
or fluid, maybe glue.

Yeah. So I'm thinking
maybe our perp used glue

to attach the bomb
to the underside of the propane tank.

- Then lit the fuse--
- [Danny] Yeah, and then boom.

It's gonna take a bit more lab work
to figure out if it can help us, though.

[sighs]
You'd better get busy.

Hey, wait.

Come on.
[laughs]

Save me a French fry.

♪♪ [jazz]

[chattering]

[chattering continues]

No. I'm-- I'm arresting you.

[laughter]

[chattering continues]

- Hey.
- Hey.

[both]
Mmm.

- I like to see you having fun.
- I like to see you, period.

- [chuckles]
- You want another drink?

- Oh, thanks.
- All right.

- He's great.
- I know.

♪♪ [continues]

- Hi.
- Hey.

I know. He's such a great guy.

Want some grass?

More for us, right?

- Good night.
- Good night.

I'm so sorry.

- I had no idea that was going on.
- Babe, it's okay.

- It's just that I work for the NYPD.
- I know. I get it.

I didn't even know those people.

They just tagged along
with some of my friends.

You know what a Goody Two-Shoes I am.

Babe, it's fine.

You go have fun.

I'll call you tomorrow.

- Can I ask you something?
- Sure.

Have you ever tried it?

- You mean weed?
- Yeah.

At some point,
you must've at least been curious.

At some point, I did lots of things,

not all of which I'm proud of.

I'll take that as a yes then.

Take it how you want.
Why does it matter?

'Cause I never have.

Between school,
nursing college and work,

I pretty much gave up my 20s.

And then a few weeks ago,
I end up with an assassin's gun to my head.

And then last night, you and I nearly get
blown to kingdom come.

So I guess all of this
is kind of making me think

that maybe I still
have some living to do.

Babe...

Care to join me?

[ticking]

Damn.

- What's wrong?
- Overslept.

- What time is it?
- 10:00.

- I was supposed to be at work an hour ago.
- Oh, no.

- You'll call me later?
- Yeah.

- Come here.
- Uh-huh.

- Come here.
- Look, baby--

- Come here.
- Oh, baby, I gotta go.

Mmm. No. Come on. Please?

Bye.

Adam, you get anywhere
with that shirt fragment?

Oh, yeah. Bird spit.

Excuse me?

I really got something.
Collocaliini Apodidae.

It's Chinese cave swallow saliva.

You know, bird spit.

I found it in the stain on the fabric.

Swabbed it,
ran it through amylase and DNA.

Get this.

The stain lines up right where Derby Chasen
was hit in the chest.

That means trace was probably
on whatever was used to hit him.

His truck serve a lot of offbeat cuisine?

Some kind of exotic ingredient maybe?

That's what I thought, but I can't find it
anywhere here on the online menu.

And I also can't find the number three
special Camille told Jo about.

Let me have the number three
special, please.

So what's a Chinese cave swallow
doing in Manhattan?

I don't know. Hey, but, Mac,

do you think if a bird spits on you,

it's the same kind of good luck
as when a bird sh--

Figure it out, Adam.

Uh, uh, uh...

I'll admit to occasionally grazing

at the pastrami truck outside the precinct,

but this whole mobile food scene
is a hell of a lot bigger than I thought.

My son and his college friends
swear by them.

And where there's that kind of demand,
there's some pretty fierce competition.

Get this.

Out of 3,000 street food permits
applied for the last year,

1,200 of them were for gourmet trucks.

In between fights over parking,
vandalism,

and proprietary claims over menu items,
things can get pretty ugly.

These are all complaints against Derby
Chasen and the World on Wheels truck.

That's right.
Eight of them in the past 12 months.

DOT, Bureau of Food Safety, Sanitation,
Health Department--

Didn't Hawkes say their food
was pretty good?

This guy sure didn't think so.

[Jo]
Odelin Gonzales.

Well, that's the name
on all these complaints.

He's a dog-and-pretzel jockey.

Been licensed to work a sidewalk
on Broadway for the last 11 years.

Looks like he's been working
the system pretty hard

against our vic while he was at it.

- Should we go pay him a visit?
- It is lunchtime.

[Jo]
That's a good-looking dog, Mr. Gonzales.

No, the best.
All beef, natural casing,

a little secret spice.

Why don't you tell us about
your all-natural beef with Derby Chasen?

Thank God you're finally here to help.

That punk has stole half my business
over the past year,

illegally.

Well, we understand you're angry
based on all the complaints you filed.

I pass every test, paid every permit,

and all he has to do is pull up and park?

Half the time,
he doesn't even feed the meters.

Does he respect my space? No.

Follow size restrictions
or pay storage fees? No.

And yet, they still line up for him.

Not anymore.

I really appreciate it, Officers.

I just hope he doesn't mess
with anyone else.

Oh, I don't think you have to worry
about that, Mr. Gonzales. He's dead.

- [speaks Spanish]
- That's right.

Your competition was literally
blown off the street.

And given the nature
of your relationship with the victim,

you can understand why we're here.

I may have been angry, but I would never
take the life of another man.

Thank you, Mr. Gonzales.
We'll get back to you.

- Not feeling it?
- Were you?

No.

I found TATP trace

on the glass bottle fragment
from the blast site,

and it looks like it matches
the hot sauce on his cart,

but there are thousands of those
in New York City.

And unless we have hard science
connecting him to the crime scene--

All we have is motive.

Yeah, and after talking to him,
even that's questionable.

- Hey.
- If it ain't Dr. Love.

- Anybody ask for me?
- Don't worry.

I, uh, covered for you.
I told them your subway broke down.

- Thanks.
- Mm-hmm.

Meanwhile, I was about to run
this melted take-out box

through the video spectral comparator.

If we want to read what's inside,
I think we'd better peel a few layers back.

- Detective Messer.
- Yeah.

- Dr. Hawkes.
- That's me.

We're with the NYPD Health Services.
We're performing drug tests this morning.

Both of your names have been selected.

Yeah, but I was already tested
earlier this year.

I was tested twice in the last two months.

The tests are performed at random,
and they may be repeated.

Follow me, please.

All right.

You heard the man.
Let's go pee in a cup.

[Camille]
Have you ever tried it?

[Sheldon]
You mean weed?

[ticking]

Damn.

Holly.

[computer beeps]

- [Sid] Leberspätzle.
- Excuse me?

Forgive me, but I fancy myself
a bit of a gourmand,

and I don't mind telling you
that I once took a summer course

at the Bavarian Culinary Academy,

where my preparation of leberspätzle

received no fewer
than two honorable mentions.

But I suppose you're wondering
why that matters.

I am.

Meet the potato ricer.

I knew I recognized it.

It's a critical tool for making leberspätzle,

not to mention pressing moisture
from all kinds of food ingredients.

I mean, it's a necessary part
of any true chef's kitchen.

And consistent with the wound
on Derby Chasen's chest.

- Mm-hmm.
- Thanks, Sid.

- Auf Wiedersehen.
- [beeps]

So Odelin Gonzales appears to be
as much of a saint as I feared.

According to the pastor of his church,
at the time of the blast,

Gonzales had volunteered
to feed the homeless

at a shelter downtown,
nowhere near the food festival.

Then how the hell
did this guy end up dead?

Bird nest soup.

- Bird nest soup?
- Yeah. It's a Chinese soup

that costs 100 bucks a bowl.

- You wanna know why?
- Because it's made with the rare nest

of the Chinese cave swallow.

Oh. And do you know how
they make their nests?

Adam...

Bird spit.

Yeah, when the saliva dries, the nests
are imported for, like, 2,000 a kilo,

and then soaked
and turned into this gelatinous blob.

- Then strained with a potato ricer.
- A potato ricer?

That could explain the transfer
of bird saliva trace to Derby Chasen's shirt.

Well, there's only a few places in Manhattan
that are selling bird nest soup,

and one of them happens to be
the last known employer of Derby Chasen--

Bistro Zai Jian.

So all this time
we've been looking at food trucks,

we should've been focused on fine dining.

Let's go see if murder is on the menu.

Let's go, let's go.
We need to move, guys.

No, no, no.
This is drier than the Sahara. Come on.

- More hoisin, more hoisin.
- You got it.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. I told you to dust
the pork with cinnamon, not bury it!

- Yeah, okay, okay.
- Come on.

Leeks, leeks.
Where are my leeks?

You call those leeks?
They look like overcooked socks.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Where are you going?

I make the food taste good,
you make it look good. You got it? Come on.

Somebody please show these people
to the dining room.

- Broxton Langley?
- Your server will be with you in a minute.

Detectives Taylor and Danville, NYPD.

We'd like to speak with you
about Derby Chasen.

All right. Here's all you need to know
about that ungrateful ass-face.

He worked for me for two years.
I taught him everything he knows.

- Then he had the balls to steal from me.
- Steal from you?

Not only did I find out
that he was moonlighting

on a taco truck on his days off,
but worse,

he was using several of my recipes.

So you confronted him?

Hell, yes, I confronted him.

- [pounding]
- Hey! You got a hell of a lot of nerve

to park this truck
a block from my restaurant.

Take it easy, all right?
I'm just here for the food festival.

You mean truck stop.
I thought you had talent, but look at you.

You think that I'm gonna stand by

and let you waste all my hard work
on some freaking roach coach?

Hey! It's a lot better than
the high-priced slop you're serving.

[grunts, coughs]

I make more at lunch
than you do in a month.

You keep this up, and I promise you,

I will fry your ass right here
where you stand.

Turned the heat up a little high,
don't you think?

- What the hell you talking about?
- We think you went back for seconds.

Derby Chasen's truck exploded
at that festival.

- He was killed in the blast.
- [potato ricer clatters]

And we have a nice table
waiting for you downtown.

[beeping]

[beeping]

Chef Schmuck got himself all lawyered up?

He agreed to come down
for further questioning

but now won't say anything
on advice of counsel.

- So where does that leave us?
- The Hotel Hyperion.

I found a take-out box
at the scene of the blast.

There was some type of writing inside.

So I ran it through
the video spectral comparator

to see if I could decipher what it was.

- That the address of the hotel?
- Yeah.

And the room number's vacant now,

but I can tell you who rented it out
the day of the blast.

Gus Stilton.

Why do I know that name?

Well, for one thing,
he owns the World on Wheels truck.

Thought that was Derby Chasen.

Yeah. It turns out Derby
only owned a 50% stake.

- So the two of them are partners.
- Yeah.

But Gus has six other trucks on top of that.

- And that's not all he has.
- [beeps]

That's why I know him.

[chattering]

- [Man] What can I get for you?
- Can I get a number three special, please?

That'll be five bucks.

Enjoy.

See you around.

[Man]
Next.

What can I get you?

[Man #2]
Give me one of them tacos.

- [Man #1] Extra sauce?
- Yeah. On the outside.

- Hi, baby.
- Hey.

- You here for the number three special?
- Am I gonna get everything I paid for?

Well, you like what you see, don't you?

Oh, yeah.

In that case, I'm all yours.

On second thought, I'm not that hungry.

[handcuffs clicking]

Let's go.

Quite a glamorous line of work
you've chosen for yourself, Mia.

Well, there's worse ways to make a living.

Yeah, and I'm sure you tell yourself that

every time another strange man
leaves your bed,

unable to look you in the eye.

At least I wasn't on the streets.

[Flack]
How did you pull this one off, Gus?

Because the last time
I ran you in for pandering,

you were trying to keep warm
with some of your girls

under a train track in Queens.

Guess who had the blanket,
by the way?

What can I say?
Won some money at the track,

invested in a truck.

Rags to riches, bitches.

It really was nicer than before.

All my clients were mostly younger, cooler.

Nothing cooler than turning tricks
for a bunch of food truck johns.

- Tell me about Gus Stilton.
- He's a nice guy.

- You're a pimp.
- [laughs] I'm an entrepreneur.

Running a food truck as a front
for a prostitution ring makes you a criminal.

And blowing one of them up--
that makes you a murderer.

How did he feel about Derby Chasen?

Good at first. Derby was sweet.

Used to cruise the food truck scene
when he'd get off work at the restaurant.

Then Gus offered him a job on the truck.

He was a good cook.
Business was booming.

All he had to do was serve you on the side.

I'm not the only one who worked for them.

No. I'm sure once everybody else
saw how successful he was,

he was having to turn girls away.

Trouble is, Derby started
turning customers away, too.

- Really? Why is that?
- Once Derby owned half the truck,

he told Gus he was through
selling anything other than food.

We got a great following, man,
and it's growing every day.

We're doing fine
without all that other stuff.

Listen, cookie, I like your food.
I really do.

But do you think people
actually come here to eat? Huh?

The "other stuff"
you want to drop from the menu

earns another five bills
every time somebody orders.

I don't care, all right?
The truck is half mine.

Oh, yeah?
Well, let me tell you something.

I put you in the truck.
One way or another, I can take you out.

Oh!

It was a simple disagreement
between business partners.

Come on, guys.
We had the perfect operation going.

Food up front,
dessert on the side, huh?

No more standing on street corners,
cash being laundered through the trucks,

and the whole thing
was completely off your radar.

So you tell me, huh?

Why the hell would I blow it all up?

[Jo] Well, for one thing,
it wasn't his only truck.

So if Derby Chasen
wasn't gonna play by his rules,

Gus Stilton could've just blown it up
out of spite and collected the insurance.

It's possible.

But right now,
all we got on him is a sex ring.

There's no real evidence yet
to tie him to the blast.

Same with our chef, Broxton Langley.

Odelin Gonzales has an alibi as well.

Still, we got a burned-up body
lying down in Autopsy,

without a single lead on our killer.

- Come on, guys. I want some answers.
- Flack's rounding up a few rival pimps

that might have issues with Gus Stilton,

and I'm going over a list of girls
that worked for him.

What about you, Hawkes?

- Hawkes!
- Oh, I'm sorry, Mac.

I guess I'm just drawing blanks
like everybody else.

Speak for yourself.

I figured out what that hardened gel was
on the propane tank.

It was glue.

High-temperature bonding,
ceramic adhesive, to be exact.

"Used for the repair of glass,
china, plastic, metal"--

Right. But that didn't help me narrow
things down until I found something else.

Ceramic glue is really sticky, right?

So I decided to take a look
at the fragments around the glue

to see if there was maybe
some trace that was left behind.

- [Danny] And you found a print.
- Yes, I did.

A partial ridge detail from a man's
right thumb caught in a smudge in the glue.

- Please tell me you got a hit in AFIS.
- With priors for arson,

reckless endangerment,
and possession of a weapon

for sticking a pipe bomb
in a landlord's mailbox.

Guess what his name was.

Odelin Gonzales.

The hot dog vendor?

Got half a dozen witnesses putting him
in a church shelter, feeding the homeless.

Because he was.
That's not the guy I'm talking about.

[rattling]

Odelin Gonzales, NYPD!

[Mac]
Don, look out!

You all right?

I'm good.

[panting]

[both grunting]

Hey.

He's the guy that bumped
into me at the festival.

Odelin Gonzales...

Junior.

You sure made a mess of things.

- Did what I had to do.
- Commit murder?

Endanger the lives of dozens of people?

There was no other way.

My father couldn't see the future
staring him in the face.

Week after week,
he'd file those complaints,

and month after month,
they'd still be ignored.

The truck kept coming,
the crowds kept coming.

How's he gonna compete with that?

The way everybody else does--
work harder.

That's what I thought.
I even told him so.

[Derby] Order number five.
Who's next? Who's next?

Two fries coming up at 7.50.
Here's your change. All right. Thank you.

Don't let him get to you, Papi.
The food isn't even that good.

Tell that to all the people standing in line.

I made 18 bucks today, O.G.

Forget about feeding the homeless.

How am I gonna feed myself
if this keeps up?

[speaks Spanish]

- Hey, uh, you--
- [speaks Spanish]

You're right.
Everything will be okay.

[Derby] I got two fries coming up
right now for you guys, all right?

But that feeling didn't last long.

Especially once you figured out
what was really going on at that truck.

Here you go, man.
Have a good one.

All right.

I'll take a number three special.

If you guys are gonna share,
it's gonna cost extra.

[Men chattering]

I'm no idiot.

The best meal in town
isn't worth 500 bucks.

[chattering]

[Man laughs]
Trust me, man.

Okay.

- What you got?
- Yeah.

All right, bros. I know where this is.
Let's go have some fun.

Yeah. Let's hit it.

- ♪♪ [electronica]
- [Men chattering]

If you're a cop, I'm only engaging
in private acts between consenting adults,

and no money has changed hands.

You're a hooker?

[chuckles]

Okay, then, you're not a cop.

Um, sorry, sweetie.
I'm a little booked up right now,

so if you want to eat, you're gonna
have to order like everybody else.

[chattering continues]

That's when I knew nothing my old man did
would ever make a difference.

So you decided to play with fire again
and do something your father would never do.

You want some fries?
I'm gonna make them back there for you.

[Mac]
You made a homemade bomb

from one of his empty hot sauce bottles

and attached it to the propane tank
using glue from the shop where you work.

But you made one mistake.

You left your thumbprint behind.

[lighter clicks]

When you lit that fuse and walked away,

you put dozens of people's lives in danger.

- And you killed an innocent man.
- [door opens]

He was far from innocent.

That's not for you to judge.

[speaks Spanish]
What have you done?

- You want to talk to me?
- To be honest,

I'd rather not talk about this at all.

I got the results of your latest drug test.

Not high enough to trigger termination,

but there are trace levels of cannabis
in your bloodstream, Hawkes.

I swear to you I wasn't using.

It's nothing but secondhand exposure.
Just bad luck. You gotta believe me.

Like I believe you when you call in sick?

This isn't about bad luck,
it's about bad choices.

I know.
You're right, and I'm sorry.

But, Mac, sometimes,

I feel like this job dictates
every single choice I make.

I mean, other people
get to leave their work at their office.

They cut loose, have fun.
But we're different.

We do a lot of good, but sometimes
it seems like that's all we're allowed to do.

That comes with the badge.
Surely Camille understands that.

Yeah, she does. She does.

But this is the first time in a long time
I've had a relationship

that's even worth getting
into trouble over, you know?

There's no department policy
against having a good time,

but you need to be careful.

And I need you to show up here
tomorrow in the right frame of mind

to honor your oath and get things done.

Are we clear?

Good.

Then go home.

And get some sleep.

[sighs]

[knock on door]

Sorry to drop by unannounced.

Um, I just couldn't stop thinking about you.

[sighs]

Camille, I can't even tell you
what kind of day I've had.

Okay? All I know...

[sighs]
I just gotta get some rest, okay?

- Oh, okay.
- Okay.

But, um, you sure about that?

[sighs]

[elevator bell dings]