All language subtitles for hunter_s02e23_saturday_night_special

The victim's a resident of Skid Row. The
last thing he said was something like,

this is just the first.

There'll be more.

He's the Skid Row stalker. Who is this?

It's the Skid Row stalker.

That is the same voice that called me
before about the murder.

Undercover on Skid Row, huh?

As what? I'm looking for my friend,
Geraldine. Did you ever hear the old

that murder always returns to see me,
brother?

Okay, Hunter, get me out of here.

Works for me.

Yes, this is Isabel Tourette.

Wait, hold on.

Look, is this some kind of sick joke?

You killed?

Who is this?

The killer.

He called me by my name, almost like he
knew me.

I'm your biggest fan, he said.

I want you to share in my glory.

Now, is there anything about his voice
that's unusual or peculiar you could

us about? It was weird.

Raspy.

Like he was disguising it.

I don't know any more than that. I'm
sorry.

Here's the murder weapon.

Saturday night special.

What about the victim? Any idea?

All we've got is a postmark dated ten
years ago and a name, Reginald Lemoyne.

Thank you, sir.

The name, uh...

Reginald Lemoine, ring a bell with you
at all?

No.

If you hear from this person again,
night or day, you call us immediately,

right?

The last thing he said was something
like, this is just the first.

There'll be more.

10 plus.

Ten bucks, ten bucks. What you talking
ten bucks?

That stuff looks like it's been stepped
on by elephants.

Hey, well, if you don't like it, you can
go someplace else, huh? Wait, wait.

I like elephants.

Very nice animals.

Exactly what time did you get that phone
call?

It was still dark.

Must have been around 5 this morning.
And you called us immediately, right?

Yeah, immediately.

How are you doing?

It's just so real, you know?

And the ugliness of it. How do you ever
get used to it?

We don't.

Ready for some more good news?

I can't even get a name.

Just passed out a long time ago.

I don't know if I have anything to say
about it.

Isabel, I'm going to ask to have a tap
put on your telephone.

At the paper?

Any of you people know this woman?

Come on, you saw her every day. You have
to at least know her first name.

Where'd she live?

Where'd she drink?

She was a human being, damn it, and
somebody killed her. Doesn't that matter

you?

How am I other sources supposed to feel
when they find out a cop is breathing

heavy on the other end?

I won't tell, will you?

I'm sorry.

I want to help you.

But no self -respecting reporter would
let the police put a tap on her line.

Where do they come from?

The U .S. Supreme Court recently
declared it unconstitutional to lock up

mentally ill unless the court has found
them to be dangerous to themselves or to

others. Turned out of the institution...

Many of them flock to the skid rows of
our large cities.

Homeless, friendless, and forgotten.

How's it coming?

Don't worry about space.

We'll find it.

Mr. Bankston?

Do we have a word, if you please, in
your office? Sure.

Even with my approval, you can't tap a
line without a court order.

And this is a newspaper.

A public trust.

Do you know what people who call us
would say if they knew they were being

wiretapped by the police? We're talking
about one line. One reporter.

It happens to be the only link we have
to this killer.

Now, if you cooperate, we'll get the
court order.

Reporters go to jail for not revealing
their sources.

And you expect me to agree to a wiretap?
People are being killed here.

Can you guarantee that if we do it your
way, we'll catch this killer?

Of course I can't. Then I can't
authorize it. And even if I did, there's

Isabel would go along with it. Yeah,
well, if it happens one more time, she's

not going to have much of a choice.

Won't she?

Then you don't know Isabel Tourette,
which incidentally isn't her real name.

Try Nella Watkins.

She grew up on the streets, dreaming of
winning a Pulitzer Prize, worked,

scratched, had to quit school at 14, but
went back nights because she had one

hell of a mind and because that's how
bad she wanted it.

That killer out there, I think he picked
the wrong lady.

L -56, come in.

Go ahead, dispatch.

We had a call for you from an Isabel
Tourette. Someone broke into her

at 5432 Bellin.

Okay, got it. Thanks.

Come in. It's open.

I couldn't lock it.

The lock's been jimmied.

Did you see who did it?

I got in around 9 .30 when I opened up
the door and turned on the lights.

Here it was.

Anything missing?

I don't know.

I tried to look. I just couldn't.

It's him, isn't it? He found out where I
lived. He came here and he did this.

Why? Well, if it is the Skid Row
Stalker, as you call him, I don't know

it's obvious he's looking for something.
You have any idea what?

It doesn't make sense.

I have no idea what he could be looking
for.

Did you check your messages yet?

Isabel, you have not let go of the fears
of which mortality is made.

Working with the authorities, you cost
me my sanity.

So when dust comes, I shall once again
become open prey to eagles.

The choice is made.

Another's blood will soon be upon my
hands.

What are you doing?

I'm going to take this downtown and
analyze it. It's okay, isn't it?

It's okay. Take it.

Maybe somebody tipped him off we were
talking to the city editor.

Yeah, that's possible.

Any idea who that could be?

You're not suggesting someone at the
paper could be involved in this.

Let's look into that.

Thanks.

So what are you telling me here? Her
place was ransacked. There was nothing

missing. She has no idea what they're
looking for. That's about right.

And there's a message on her phone
machine, but our lab can't tell if it's

male or a female. Right again?

Yeah.

Well, what do we got here?

A big bunch of nothing.

Well, the voice was altered
electronically. That's big time

And the FBI fingerprints computer gave
us the name of the other victim. It's

Geraldine D'Souza, born May 17th, 1921
in Tucson, Arizona.

She disappeared about 12 years ago. Her
family still doesn't know her. So where

does that lead us? I think it ought to
lead us to Skid Row. Fine.

Go ahead. What are you doing here?

Well, they're not real keen on cops down
in Skid Row. One of us has to go

undercover. Yeah, so we need a little
bit more time and equipment.

Undercover on Skid Row, huh?

As what?

Hey, I'm looking for my friend
Geraldine.

She's about this tall, and she's about
60.

She always wears a lucky red sweater.
It's like this color right here.

Red like that. I haven't seen her for a
long time. Have you seen her?

No, dearie, I can't help you. I don't
know her.

But knock on wood, I hope you find her.

It's okay, Hunter. Stay where you are.
He's gone.

I've been looking for her for a long
time, and I ain't found her at all. You

ever seen her?

Sounds like you're describing Wanda, not
some Geraldine.

About so high, old gal, treasure hunter
like me.

Folks around a lot.

Where's Red Sweater?

Red Sweater. Red Sweater. That's what
you always... Lucky Red. Lucky Red

Sweater. That's her. Where can I find
her?

I might try Jack's Bar.

I've seen her in there before.

More than once.

Jack's Bar.

Okay, I know exactly where that is.
Jack's Bar, Jack's Bar. Thank you so...

thank you, thank you. Bless you.

Okay, Hunter, get me out of here. Corner
of Olive and Alameda.

I hear you. You know, sometimes them
little bottles just seem to come to

I didn't know better. I swear mine was
singing the Star Spangled Banner.

Get me out of here.

Olive and Alameda.

I like it.

It's you.

I also like what you've done with your
hair.

It makes a statement, a personal
statement. I like that about you. I

You want to hear a really personal
statement?

Good.

Take me home.

I'm exhausted.

I've got to take a bath and change my
clothes, and then we've got to go to

Jack's and get a drink.

Hiya, Jack.

I'm not Jack.

Can't be Papa Jack?

Well, you can try.

But he's been dead for so long, he
probably won't answer.

Are you the staff clown or do you own
this place?

I own it.

What did you say your name was?

It's Sid.

Signs cost money and drunks don't read
them anyways.

You know anything about the murder of
the woman last night at Fifth and Hill?

Nope.

She was a bag lady.

Kind of a pack rat.

Her name might have been Wanda. She
always wore a red sweater.

Sid.

Come on, I hear you're the eyes and ears
of this whole neighborhood.

Look, I don't like cops in here.

It runs the customers off. It's nothing
personal.

Yeah, well, maybe you should put some
liquor in your liquor.

I especially don't like funny cops.

What about spoilsport cops?

What about cops that think you have too
many phones in your bar? What about cops

that think you're running a book in the
back room?

She liked her sherry.

And you're right. The name was Wanda.

Was that it?

What else do you want?

Some of these people don't smell so
good.

Sometimes you don't want to get close
enough to pour their booze. Or take

money.

Give me a break, huh?

All I know is that whenever she hit it
lucky, they'd come in here and order

sherry like a couple of queens.

What do you mean, they?

They. Her and Pockets.

Who the hell's Pockets?

Another crazy broad.

They were always together.

Where can we find this pockets?

Look, finding pockets ain't going to do
you an ounce of good. She don't talk,

not to nobody, ever.

She hangs out over on Third by the bank,
where she don't talk either.

Pocket, I'm Sergeant McCall. This is
Sergeant Hunter. We're police officers.

Please, we just want to talk with you,
Pocket.

It's about Wanda.

We're dead.

I know she was your friend.

I know she was alone and somebody killed
her, and God knows she deserves better

than that.

Is there someplace we can go and sit
down?

I don't know. Maybe Sid's right. Maybe
she can't talk. Maybe she doesn't

understand. I understand more than Sid
does.

Why didn't you say anything?

Say what?

They leave you alone.

You don't say nothing. Why did you
decide to talk to us?

I like what she said about Wanda
deserving better.

Will you talk to us about Wanda?

You buy a bottle of sherry, know what I
mean?

Sure will.

One just slept there.

I guess I better get rid of it now.

You two, turn around. Turn around.

Turn around.

No peeking now. You hear me?

Yeah, we hear you.

Now you can look.

I don't let nobody see my hidey -hole.

I told Wanda,

don't go poking in that garbage at
night.

I told her, poke all you want in the
daytime, but at night, you stay here.

She wouldn't listen to me.

All... the time, poking in that damn
garbage like a rat.

And sure enough, he got her.

Who got her? Who do you think?

The guy what killed her.

Well, who was it?

I don't know.

But as soon as I find out, I'm going to
give him one right between the eyes like

he done Wanda.

Wanda was okay.

She just couldn't take care of herself.

I tried, but...

You couldn't tell her nothing.

She was all talk to anybody.

Always talking, talking and poking,
poking and talking, talking and poking.

Isabel, good stuff. Keep it up and
you're going to win a Pulitzer, young

I'd rather find a home for a bunch of
poor people in Skid Row.

I've seen you on TV.

Excuse me, I'm sorry. I'm really in a
hurry.

You let go of me or I'm going to call
for help.

No, you won't.

Because I've seen you before you got on
TV.

I've seen you in that alley.

What alley?

You know what alley.

I want $5 ,000, so I'm going to go tell
the police.

Tell them what?

That there ain't no Skid Row stalker.
You made it all up, lady.

Stalkers, you.

I seen you. I seen you killing an old
lady.

Hi, sorry to keep you waiting, but we
won't be issuing a statement until this

time tomorrow.

Are you sure you have no leads? Are
there any suspects at this point? No,

sorry. Is there anything you can tell
us? Is there anything you can tell us?

Isabel, why are you here? Isabel, what's
the status of the case? Any new

developments? I have a deadline just
like you. Wait, give us a break, okay?

Have you talked to the killer again in
his cell with any motive given for the

murders?

You'll read all about it in the Daily
Citizen.

That's what I've been trying to tell
you. This guy says he has eyewitness

information about the killings.

And the voice wasn't anything like the
killer's? No, no, it was just normal.

And the only thing he was worried about
was how much money I was going to pay.

How much were you going to pay?

$500.

Did he also volunteer to tell you where
Jimmy Hoffa was?

My instincts tell me this guy's legit.

Now, the only thing I'm worried about is
meeting him in Skid Row in the middle

of the night. Well, you don't have to
worry about that. I'll go meet him. My

face has been plastered all over the 6 o
'clock news. No, uh -uh.

I want you to wire me and back me up.

Uh -uh. Wait a minute now.

You're a civilian. We can't... I'm not a
civilian. I'm a reporter, and that's

the deal.

If you want to know more about this, you
put a hidden microphone on me.

Otherwise, I'm just going to do it all
on my own.

I don't try to be a hero, Isabel, but if
I take any chances, you understand, let

us do the police work.

It's your last chance to back out.

It's okay, let's do it.

All right, you're all set?

There's a note here that says keep going
south to the next phone booth.

There's another note here.

It says go to the next alley, meet me
near the fence.

If he's this close, you better stay
there.

He might hear your call.

What's the gun for, Billy?

You don't need a gun.

Got the cash?

It's okay. We're here.

What the hell happened here?

It was him.

It's the Skid Row Stalker.

That's the same voice that called me
before about the murder.

He got me here to kill me.

He pointed the gun at me, and he started
talking in his gibberish.

So I grabbed the gun, and it went off.

He just dropped, and I ran.

What happened to your wire?

When he came rushing out at me, it must
have pulled loose.

He came from the shadows and grabbed my
arm. Let me see the notes you got from

the phone booth.

I'm not a happy, carefree kind of guy.

I worry about things.

I worry about nuclear arms. I worry
about food riots.

I worry about two hot dog cops who use
civilians on decoy operations. Now, wait

a minute, Ambrose. It was not a decoy
operation. She was going with us or

without us.

Well, anyway, at least it was the bad
guy who bit the biscuit and not her.

closed.

Well, we'd like to keep the case open.

We also want to keep her under
surveillance.

What? She's the suspect?

Yeah. Come on, guys. We got a dead
junkie. He's a Skid Row stalker.

when does a junkie ever kill anybody
except to get his next fix?

Now, I think a guy who goes out and
kills people and calls a reporter to

about it is a psycho. He's twisted.

I think this dead guy and the killer are
two different people.

I don't believe her story about what
happened in the alleyway. She said the

came loose during the struggle. Well,
over a minute won't buy before we heard

the first shot.

Okay, so she struggled with him for a
while, and then the gun went off. Big

deal. If a minute went by, don't you
think we would have heard something?

We didn't hear anything.

Okay, if it was a setup and she really
murdered this guy, why the hell would

invite you two along for the ride?

Witnesses.

She had to have witnesses to validate
her big story. That's right.

And think about it.

Who better than a couple of cops?

of these work?

Just hold them up to your eye and look
through them.

I mean the technology behind it. The
principle behind what makes it work.

But it's a very simple principle.

If it was so simple, I wouldn't have
that.

Okay.

Infrared light is gathered in prisms.

Tiny little shapes like this.

Through the ionosphere by magnets.

It's stored in a refractory sense in
those lenses.

In the evening when there's a low
intensity light.

you're able to see with the help of the
infrared light. It shoots out through

the subject, and it glows, and you're
able to see the images clearly, not with

regular lights, but only with infrared
lights and only at nighttime.

Get out of here.

You're looking to the wrong end.

You know, I'm still trying to figure out
how she did it.

Did what?

Did what? She suckered us, Hunter. She
got us wrapped up in her big story like

couple of innocents. You know, a gallant
reporter solved Skid Row's stalker

case. I'm trying to figure out how she
talked that junkie to get into the alley

there where they're killing.

Well, you're the know -it -all. Why
don't you tell me?

What do you mean I'm the know -it -all?
If I knew that, I wouldn't be sitting in

this car staring at this exit. Besides,
I want to get some sleep.

Here she comes.

Good news of not going home.

Yeah, but I've never seen it happen.

Can I reach you?

Nope.

What happened?

She's leaving.

Well, come on, jump.

I'm not going to jump. It's too high.

Well, you jump and hurry up. She's
probably getting away.

Come on.

Oh, you want to miss a meal.

She was looking for something in the
trash.

Looking for what?

Something she could identify just by
feel.

Well, she didn't find it. No, not while
I was watching. If she did, that means

she's got it with her right now. That's
right.

Yeah? Miss Tourette, you're under
arrest.

What? You have the right to remain
silent. Anything you say can and will be

taken down and used against me in a
court of law.

Yeah. Are you taking me into custody?

And if so, why?

Well, not unless you'd like to answer
some questions right here.

Like what were you looking for in that
alley?

Come in.

I lost an earring. I went to look for
it.

Did you find it?

No. I guess it's lost.

It had sentimental value.

They were my grandmother's. Could I see
the other one?

Be my guest.

Is that it?

Yeah.

Tell me, why did you wait till night to
go look for it? Why not look for it

during the daytime?

I just realized that it was missing a
couple of hours ago, and I didn't want

wait until morning.

Why am I being arrested?

Because I lost an earring? Oh, no, no,
no.

You see, we want to search you and
search your car.

Want to search the car?

Stay the keys.

You want to do a strip search? Be my
guest.

Don't be surprised if you read about it
on the front page of the Daily Citizen.

Sergeant Hunter, it's a shame you can't
stay.

I have a great bod.

Isabel Truett?

Yes?

What do you want?

I make my living finding little things
and selling them to people.

I find them in the highways and the
byways, in the alleys.

I find out some very interesting things,
special things that people

want and special things that they can't
find.

Things that cost maybe a thousand
dollars.

What are you trying to say and get to
the point?

Oh, yes, ma 'am. I sure don't want to
take up your time, but I thought maybe

you was in the mood to buy something,
maybe the size of a monkey wrench,

maybe we could do a little business.

You want to meet somewhere, is that it?

Well, somewhere with lots of people.

Someplace crowded.

Uh -huh. You pick this bar. Guardian
Restaurant, downtown.

Three o 'clock.

I know where Betty is.

I'm with Isabel Tourette's party. Will
you kindly show me to her table?

It's all right.

She's with me.

Well, do you want to tell me what that
phone call was all about?

Yeah.

You know, it's funny how I come by this
little doodad.

I was sound asleep behind the trash,
copping some Z's, when all

of a sudden I see all this bang
-banging, and I looks up, and there's

hiding something in a pile of junk.

I wait, and I wait till everybody's
gone.

And then I sneak the look, and there's
another little something for me to

sell.

And this pretty little number got a
story, so that makes it worth a whole

more.

You listen to me, old lady.

You cut the crap and tell me what you
want.

I want a cool...

Well,

let me tell you something.

I think maybe that you're a cop and that
you're wired, and I don't know what

you're talking about.

A cop?

How many cops you think look like me?

And you think I got a little machine to
take down all your pretty little words?

Well, here.

You want to see?

At my place, all right?

That place of yours happen to have a
little sherry?

Yes.

All right.

You're not wired.

So where do we go from here?

Well, you come bring the money, and I'll
bring what I got.

And just like that, at that restaurant
where we was today.

You've got three hours. Oh, Lord, ain't
we somebody.

You better be nice to me, Miss Pris.

This way, so you get your hands on the
goodies.

You don't show up, I'll see about you.

Because I picked that thing up very
careful.

And ain't nobody touched it since you
did.

You'll get your money. Just get out of
here.

It's got a nice ring to it.

A pocket.

I told her what you found.

I called it a thing.

Got the signs of a monthly rent, like
you said.

She never once asked you exactly what it
was that you found?

Oh, she knew what I found.

Good looking.

What else could it be? It had to be the
gun the junkie had.

He probably even tried to use them. Had
to be what she was looking for.

Parker, you cannot be alone with this
woman.

Oh, Parker can take care of herself.

No, you can't, not with this woman.

Um, if it didn't work, uh, he could just
walk away

and you couldn't do anything about her?

Well, we don't want anything to happen
to you.

Bless your heart.

Ain't nobody been concerned about me for
a hundred years.

Now, listen, Pockets. Do not get into
the same car with her. Don't even go to

the ladies' room together.

She'll try to kill you.

Well, she didn't kill me when she had me
at her house.

That's because you didn't have the gun.

That's probably the only reason you're
still here.

The first chance she gets, she'll try to
kill you.

Like she killed Wanda.

I took Wanda's bed out.

Put everything away.

You know, when you ain't got but one
friend, and you lose that one, it makes

mad.

I cried, and it takes a lot to make me
cry.

And I'm mad.

Why'd she do that?

Her Skid Row Stalker story made the
front page.

She had a hard time growing up, and now
she's looking for a Pulitzer Prize.

Uh -uh.

Don't bring me that stuff about I'm
poor.

So I'll just step on somebody else.

Like it's all right.

Because you had it hard to do anything
to anybody.

Then they make everybody black and
everybody poor. Shame.

It makes me ashamed.

Sitting in her apartment.

Her fancy apartment.

Eating her supper like ain't nothing
happened. Like Wanda was just dust on

shoes. Well, it's time.

to stand up and give that stuff right
back, because I'm tired of it. And she's

got it coming.

And old Pockets is going to give it to
her.

Hallelujah.

Hurry up and get in. Uh -uh.

You want the money or not?

That's why I'm doing this dance.

Well, sweetheart, I'm not going to hand
it to you on a platter in the restaurant

with all those witnesses.

And I'm not getting in no automobile
with you, Miss Huppity.

Well, old lady, you just kissed away $1
,000.

Let me get away.

Wait!

Where is it? Hold your horses. I got it.

Right here.

And it's back.

Uh, somewhere. Yeah, I got it.

Will you hurry up?

Keep your pretty little hands all to
yourself.

Just... Show it to me. No way, Jose.

You let me see the green, then you get
to see the good.

You give me that box now, you wouldn't
shoot me, would you, Cal?

Oh, I might have known you would shoot
mine for me.

This is the police.

Pull your car over and throw out your
gun. Now.

You all right?

Never felt better in my life.

That gal picked the wrong old crazy
person to...

Ella Mae?

I got five different ways of moving in
and out of this place.

On the count of night, burglar. Oh,
yeah.

Guess what we've got for you.

Something special.

Hey, let me go see where Wanda was
buried today.

Over in Pottersfield.

I took a few little things over there to
put on the grave.

Ella Mae?

Why don't you get out of this place?

Why don't you let us help you to find a
new home?

You mean...

Why don't I leave this mangy old hole at
last?

Well, sure.

There's a lot of relocation assistance
programs. We can help you.

I got me a place.

It may not look like much, but it's what
I am.

It's freedom.

I can come and go in and out of here any
way I please. I'm captain of the ship

here.

I am somebody.

So, let's make a toast.

I got me two friends, a pretty lady and
a tall, handsome fellow.

And we finally done good by wonder.

Hallelujah.

Amen.