Original subtitles

These motherfuckers weren't doing anything

the rest of us weren't doing.

Jackie, they got the wrong guy.

Chuck Stuart blew out his own guts

to get away with killing his wife...

and said some nigger did it.

I mean, I believe him too, he told me a black guy did it.

Would you shit in a fucking bag for the rest of your life

to get away with killing your wife?

I love my wife.

I love my wife too,

but I'm a big fan of keeping things simple.

Look, I got no love lost for the Boston Police Department,

but this fucking commission that they set up

to investigate this Charles Stuart shit,

the St. Clair Commission, letting it leak

that they wanted jail time for cops.

Fuck that. U.S. attorney is losing his mind.

Speaking of, I cannot believe I'm in a line

for this miserable fuck.

Matthew Cook was an asshole.

Salvie, for Christ's sake.

Show some fucking respect.

Jackie.

I didn't think anybody'd come.

I knew you loved him, but

I didn't think anybody else would come.

Josie, your husband...

he was... he was like Jack Kennedy.

No one knew what they had.

Yes. Thanks.

You know, I got this Grassy Knoll theory

about the night that this whole fucking city went to shit.

It was the time that Mayor Flynn sent the cops on the ice.

You remember that? Bruins/Canadiens?

The fucking fight went all the way up in the stands.

What used to make this city great

was that it was run by bad men

who understood that they were bad.

And then some stupid fuck goes on the TV and tells everybody,

"You can't act like this anymore,

not even in a Bruins game."

And now...

can't even call a guy a faggot, he deserves it.

I don't... it's... I...

So, what you're saying is,

you're upset 'cause this is a civil place to live now.

What the fuck we been working for the last 20 years?

Well, I always just thought the FBI

wanted to be the baddest motherfucker around.

Look, I'm only gonna say this once,

'cause you're my friend.

Take it how you will.

You're fucking your life up.

What are you talking about?

This shit you're talking about.

What we used to get away with?

Times are changing. It's not 1983 anymore.

You got to knock it off, pal.

What's the matter with you?

Look at me.

I love my job.

Now my kids can't stand me.

I got nothin'.

Same thing's gonna happen to you, Jackie.

What, did your wife finally smarten up and leave you?

Is that what this is all about?

You stupid fuck.

You're never gonna learn.

What? Come on.

You can't take a joke? Salvie, come on.

Hey, where you goin'? Salvie, come on.

Hey.

Whoa. Fuck.

Hey, Rohr!

You said you'd give us $50

to show up and make a crowd for the widow.

Are you fuckin' kiddin'? There's only 20 here!

You forget what state you're living in, pal?

This is Massachusetts.

Tax is a bitch.

Thanks for nothin', Rohr.

I don't know how the Globe found out, but there it is.

Members of the St. Clair Commission,

wanted jail time for Boston police.

Now, who do you think they're talkin' 'bout?

You.

And you think that's a good thing?

I pushed jail time for cops.

The U.S. attorney, unfortunately, didn't agree.

Now, why else would I leave the U.S. Attorney's office,

come work for the county DA, if this wasn't the kind of work

that I wanted to get done?

Cops aren't fans of the Globe, and

cops make cases for the district attorney.

So let me ask you this again.

You think it's a good thing that your heroics got mentioned?

Hmm.

Hey, come on.

Come on, DeCourcy.

Excuse me.

Their coffee's on me. Keep the change.

Hey, thank you for your service.

You just couldn't make it easy, huh?

Who learns that way?

- Here's the warrant. - Hold on to it.

Hey, listen up, assholes. I'm only going to say this once.

This is a racially charged situation. It's very delicate.

Your strength is the spirit of the law.

Let's go.

Boston police! Show me your hands!

Don't move! Don't move!

- Come on! - Get 'em up!

What the fuck, Stevie?

These aren't the guys.

He's goin' out the window!

Get him!

Get it open! He's out the window!

Ah, shit!

Fuck!

Thought you read the fucking warrant, Stevie!

- I did! - Give me that warrant!

- What's that door say? - 217.

That's the wrong fucking door!

- How the fuck did that happen? - Oh, I know.

Your mother smoked too many Kools

she was pregnant with you, you dyslexic motherfucker.

Come out of there or I'll pull the fucking short hairs

off the back of your neck one by one.

Show me your fucking warrant.

Oh, yeah, I got your fucking warrant right here.

Chief. Hey, Chief. Hey!

Chief, Chief.

Hey, is there a reason my first case back in Superior Court

is a case out of Bromley Heath?

Ward, are you an asshole?

A cop gets shot.

This is as close to a slam-dunk conviction

as you're gonna get.

What the fuck you so upset about?

Look, Chief, there's a reputation you get, right?

Black lawyer working guns and drugs...

Look, y-you're overthinking this.

I put you on this because you're gonna put the shit-bum away.

And you might make things easier between you and the BPD.

I don't know anything that'd do that.

Better not fuck it up.

Let's go, guys. Out. Everybody out.

Let's go. Closing time.

Come on, Hook!

- Let's go! - Lemme finish my beer.

- What's up, Bill? - What's happenin'?

- How you doin', guys? - How you doin'?

Holy shit, those look like fucking Army guns to me.

- You said you needed 'em quick. - Yeah.

But not so as to get a life sentence

carrying a fucking M16.

They shoot where they point?

I'd assume so.

Then they're fine.

Where did you get your hands on an AK-47?

Brother brought 'em back from 'Nam.

Killed three gooks to get them.

What do you know about that color?

Barry, you all right?

No way...

What the fuck are you doing in Bromley Heath?

- Fuck you think I was doing? - I think you were getting high.

No, look, Jackie, this ain't my fault.

Don't talk like I'm your mother.

You think you're my only snitch?

- Narcs kicked in the wrong door. - You shouldn't have been there!

Look, I got a guy, a lead.

Goes right to Prince Street. The office.

This guy gives you Frank Salemme.

And?

And what?

You want to hear more?

Get me the fuck out of here.

So, what, you, you gonna get me out?

I'll figure something out.

You know, you're a good shit, Jackie.

Don't know why they say you're a prick.

It's a rumor my wife started.

Hey. Hey, counselor.

Hey, Jackie, what's goin' on?

The cop shooting? Bromley Heath?

Yeah, I gave it to the new guy, Ward. Why?

Friend of mine asked me to take a look.

Oh, you're gonna love DeCourcy Ward.

Why is that?

Affirmative action hire.

Oh, Christ. How bad?

He was on the St. Clair Commission.

Fuck me.

Move! Move!

I see it, the bag!

Bag down, bag down!

Fellas.

- There he is. - And here comes trouble.

Darling, when you gonna get rid of that husband of yours?

- Hey. - Hey, Jackie.

DeCourcy Ward.

Jackie Rohr, FBI. You mind if I call you D?

Uh... no. I have an arraignment.

The arraignment's what I want to talk to you about.

You got a kid, Roach, on your docket.

He's an informant of mine. He's working a decent case.

He also shot a cop.

Well, he allegedly shot a cop.

You want me to let him off? Why me?

Call it a professional favor.

No, but why me...

specifically?

It's your case, isn't it?

Is there a misunderstanding here?

No, no, see, I understand perfectly.

You walk in here and you think,

oh, the new guy's stupid enough to eat your bullshit.

What are you, some kind of asshole?

I spent five years with the U.S. Attorney,

watching Feds cut deals for pieces of shit like this.

Take it to Guy Dan. See what he says.

Oh, well, excuse me, Clarence Thomas.

I'm sorry I gave you the benefit of the doubt.

I figured you weren't Guy Dan's Uncle Tom,

but clearly I was mistaken.

Don't worry.

Next time, I won't ask.

Oh, is that a threat?

Threat?

No.

It's a "fuck you."

Aah!

Hey!

Hey!

What the hell's fuckin' goin' on back there?

He saw my fucking face!

What the fuck?

He saw my fucking face!

What the fuck are we gonna do?

They saw my fucking face!

Calm down. You understand me?

I don't know, man. Let's just take their IDs,

drop them off at the yard.

What are you, a fucking moron?

We'll know where their families live.

I ain't hurting someone's kids!

Jesus, my kid's got nothing to do with this.

We're not gonna hurt your goddamn kids.

I'm not gonna say nothin'!

- I don't know you. - We won't say nothing.

I don't know you either!

Fuck!

Look, I'm from D Street in South...

Nobody cares where you're from!

All's I'm saying is I grew up with it.

I'm not gonna rat anyone out, on my life.

If you were me, would you trust you?

We'll take money, some of it.

You get caught, say we're in on it.

That's not a bad idea.

They saw my face.

You want to worry about this the rest of your life?

It's on you.

It's up to you, boss.

I get one smoke?

Oh, my God!

Oh, no.

Wait, wait. Hang on, hang on.

Okay, don't stop. Don't stop.

Here, here. Ready?

Shh.

What the fuck is she ching-chonging about?

She's calling you "gweilo."

Gweilo? What the fuck does that mean?

Approximately, "white devil."

Ooh, she ain't wrong about that.

Come here, baby.

Ooh, gotta go.

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Hey, hey, hey, take it easy. Take... hey, hey.

Get back! Get back!

Mama, people can see you! Stop it!

What the fuck are you guys doing down here?

Fuck are you doing here?

Man.

Your life's just turned out exactly how you expected, huh?

All right, all right!

All right, all right, I'm going, I'm goin'.

Rough night?

I'm sorry, Daddy.

I got some sausage and peppers left over from lunch.

You want me to heat that up for you?

Ooh.

Why would you say that to me?

Just be grateful that I found you and not your mother.

Fuck!

I don't know how I'm going to do it.

Look my wife in the eye

when she asks about what happened today, you know?

Why?

You didn't do nothin'.

Oh. Guns and drugs.

Yeah.

But a cop was shot.

Oh.

So this is one where the Boston Police

actually want you to win?

Life doesn't have to be this hard.

The firm would love to have you.

Oh, but then I'd have to spend my nights in Locke-Ober

watching these old rich people

stuff their faces full of lobster.

Just like you will Wednesday night.

No, wh...

you still making me go to that, babe?

Come on, I got to eat shit all day.

Now I got to eat yours too?

You will take what I give you

and be glad to eat it, Mr. Ward.

Oh, is that so?

That is so.

Okay.

Come here.

Oh, God, that feels weird.

Don't worry, it's not weird.

- It's working. - It hurts, though.

It can't be hurting, for Christ's sake.

Kid.

- Come on. - Is it done?

It's almost done. Almost done.

What the hell are you two gypsies up to?

We're talking about you, asshole.

What else is new?

You feeling all right?

Yeah. Ears are killing me.

How was your night?

Awful.

You feel better now?

Yeah, feels all right.

Oh, for Christ's sake.

I didn't need to see that.

What was so bad about work?

I just spent the night running around,

trying to get this informant out of stir.

Guy Dan give you a problem?

No.

His affirmative action hire.

Well, what do you expect from that?

So why you look so handsome today?

Think I'm coming down with something.

Ah.

Yeah, I guess something must be going around.

Bennie couldn't get out of bed this morning.

I think that's a feminine issue.

What?

Nothing. Nothing.

I hope you feel better.

- Marilyn. - Hey, Jackie.

Hey.

Where the fuck did you find this kid, Ward?

U.S. Attorney's, working white collar.

Junk bonds, savings and loan, that sort of thing.

- Why? - What is a guy like that doing

working at the fucking Suffolk DA's office?

He's got a notion he's going to be the next mayor of Boston.

Oh, yeah? How's he figure that?

He got money?

No, he's just a Brownsville porch monkey,

but his wife's got money.

Hmm. Is she good-looking too?

Honestly, how much trouble are you about to cause me today?

Clay Roach...

how's that going?

Oh, he'll be going cold turkey at Walpole

by the end of the week.

If you had to,

think you could drop him?

What, are you kidding me?

The BPD already wants to lynch me.

Now you want me to let a cop-shooter walk?

Well, it might be in your best interest, considering...

What does Guy Dan say?

No, Guy Dan is not in this conversation.

That's why I'm here.

Okay.

You want it dropped?

Order me to.

You know, Ward, there's a way to do this job,

you could have it for the rest of your life.

Watch your kids grow up in a good neighborhood,

safe from all the shit that we see here.

But if you want to be an idealist...

I'm not having this conversation.

All right.

Anyone good?

Yeah. A real tragedy.

Number 99 of the year.

Can I ask you a question?

In your experience,

is it a rare thing,

the FBI interfering in felony cases?

Is it rare? No. But who asked?

Jackie Rohr.

Rohr you want to avoid.

He's like the FBI's Doug Flutie.

He can walk into any cop bar in New England

and never have to buy himself a drink.

Why's that?

He was on the crew that brought down

the Angiulo family about ten years back.

First guys to do it in the country,

bring down a whole Mafia family.

If it won't kill you to do him a favor, just do it.

The thing with Rohr,

if he comes for you, you ain't never gonna see it coming.

Daddy?

Daddy?

Kick, sweetheart.

Hey.

What's the matter?

I'm scared.

Scared?

What are you scared of, Katherine?

I woke up and you weren't home.

Hey.

When does your father not come home to you?

What's the matta?

I saw Kanicki.

Where?

Hmm?

Hey, did you see him in your dream?

Is that where you saw him?

Yeah.

Come on, let's go to bed.

Come on.

Hey.

Babe.

Was she having the dreams again?

Kanicki.

I don't know how she remembers.

Your mother's on the phone.

I'm sorry. What does she want?

What do you think?

- Yeah. - Frank.

Your brother saw fit to throw a road flare

into a vehicle operated

by our most protected minority citizens.

For some reason, they didn't press charges.

Yeah?

Wonder why.

How you doing otherwise, Frank?

I'm fine, thank you.

Come on, Jimmy.

Jimmy. Let's go.

Hey.

Come on.

Real sorry to waste your time.

You take care of yourself, Jimmy.

Take him out the back, all right?

All right.

We're going out the back, Jimmy.

Oh, fuck.

Oh, my...

You know, Frank, I honestly...

You tell me you love me,

I'm going to kick your fucking head in.

- You understand? - I fucking love you.

I love you. You love me?

- You love me? - Get in the car.

Now, look, I'm not from around here,

but I've often heard that a New England conscience

is one that doesn't prevent you from doing anything,

but prevents you from enjoying it after.

Hey. Brought you a coffee.

I don't accept professional favors.

Why not? It's free.

All right, look,

don't drink the coffee, all right?

It's cold anyway. But just hear me out.

I think there's been a misunderstanding

between you and I.

No, there's no misunderstanding at all.

I think we both recognize one another

for exactly who we are.

What do you want, Ward?

I want to put this case to bed.

You give me the name of your supposed real shooter,

I let Roach walk.

Well, considering that that would completely spoil

my C.I. as an informant,

let's just put that aside for the minute. I mean...

what do you want, long-term, for you?

Honestly?

Yeah, honestly.

I want to rip out the fucked-up machinery

in this bullshit city.

I want to tear it all down, for good.

Look, look, look, look.

Do you honestly think you're the first person to feel that way?

I mean, you ever heard of Lincoln Steffens?

Good men don't understand.

I don't buy that.

Yeah?

You havin' a lot of luck with that yourself?

'Scuse me, I'm looking for Detective Minogue.

Okay.

You might want to be polite.

Ask me to at least sit down,

considering I'm the one prosecuting your collar.

When you worked for the U.S. Attorney's office,

you wanted to give cops jail time

trying to catch the cocksucker shot a pregnant woman.

You can fucking stand, my friend.

You involved in the Stuart case?

Hmm?

No?

Then what's it matter to you?

'Cause here's the one thing you people don't understand.

And before you get all up in arms about that,

I'm talking about civilians.

It's that early on in your career as a cop,

you make a choice.

You see the way guys do this job,

and you can do it too.

Or you gonna protect 'em while they're doing it.

'Cause someday, your backup just won't show.

And then there comes a day

when some guy shoots a pregnant woman,

and you lay a hand to catch him.

And along comes a fucking asshole like you,

recommending jail time.

I still resent they didn't get it.

You got a donkey cock on you, I'll give you that.

So, what do you want from me?

Give me a reason not to drop Roach.

He shot a cop.

Some people willing to go to bat for him.

Yeah? Who? Feds?

You don't seem surprised.

Do you know who Whitey Bulger is?

He's the biggest fucking myth in the history of Boston.

Whitey keeps the drugs out of Southie.

That's because Whitey is the drugs in Southie.

But you, me, we can't touch him.

Why?

You think the FBI would lie about Roach

to get him off?

Depends who's asking.

Jackie Rohr.

Then most fucking definitely.

His people said there was another shooter.

Said that you had a warrant for the wrong place.

Why are you so certain he'd lie?

Because Jackie's a classic Boston asshole.

From a time in this city when things were so fucked up,

if you went to Mass on Sunday you were considered legitimate.

And he always gets away with it.

And that's the part you don't like.

Yeah.

That cocksucker offends my fucking sense of decency.

Fucknuts.

What the fuck do you want, scumbag?

Do you know Junior Minogue?

Narc? Yeah, he's a piece of shit. Why?

How you doing?

Fuck off, Rohr.

What do you got on him?

What do you got for me?

Seats.

Opening day.

You can do better than that.

Sure, but do I want to?

Shut the door.

Fuck you.

You really want to bust my balls on this fucking Roach case, huh?

-Hey, the prick shot a cop. -Don't talk like I'm a fucking idiot.

You and I both know that you weren't supposed to be there.

Blow it out your ass. My warrant was in order.

You know, there is a nice way that I could do this,

but I fucking don't like you,

so let's just cut to it.

How's your degenerate brother Gary doing?

All you gotta do

is say that you caught Roach fleeing the scene.

Leave a little bit of room for reasonable doubt.

I'm not fucking lying for you, you cocksucker.

How long did he last in the seminary, Gary,

'fore they washed him out?

Huh?

Doing what he did.

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

Does your mother know?

- Hey, Frankie. - How you doing?

Hey.

- Hey, Jimmy, how you doing? - Can I talk to you?

Yeah, what do you want?

Uh...

I need some money.

Don't we all, Jimmy?

Frankie, I need it.

- I got to get outta here. - Hey...

No, I got to get outta here.

You're not going to be happy anywhere,

you don't take care of yourself.

I'm looking at you.

Yeah, I know. It's for treatment.

Is it for treatment, or is it to get out of town?

Which one is it?

The treatment center's in Florida.

- Along with your kids? - Yeah.

Jimmy, what do you want? You want a job?

I can get you a job here.

Is that what you're looking for?

That's how you make money, pal.

You work.

No, no, I want the... I want... I want to do the other thing.

Frankie, I want to do the other thing.

- Hey. - What?

Shh.

I want to do the other...

It's not going to happen.

Brother, come on!

My whole fucking life...

I never asked you for anything.

- No, you haven't. - No.

No.

But plenty of people have asked on your behalf.

You know what?

You know I can do it.

- I know you can do it. - Exactly!

I'm not worried about it. Shut up.

I'm worried about your fucking mouth.

I'm worried about that thing, you understand?

Hey, look at my life.

-You think it changes anything Jimmy? -No, no!

You think having money changes a thing?

No, but it makes it easier, all right?

Fuck!

I'm sorry, darling. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. I'm going.

Criminal docket 1568 of 1992.

Commonwealth vs. Clay Roach.

And what did the Drug Control Unit

find on the premises?

A .22 handgun matched to the bullet

taken from Officer Burke's shin.

Traces of heroin. Paraphernalia.

And the suspect?

Suspect was apprehended near the vicinity of the shooting.

It says in your report, detective,

that suspect Roach was taken inside the premises.

Yeah, the premises being the Bromley Heath housing project,

in toto.

It says in your report...

Yeah, in the writing of the report.

It says in your report...

We heard what the report said, counselor.

Time to move on.

What the fuck did you just let happen to you out there, boy?

Your Honor, the detective said...

You stripped your horns going after cops,

then took a job working for them.

Don't hand me excuses.

I don't know what else to tell you.

Did I hear something about this Roach kid

being a federal informant?

He was, or is.

Then you should have let him walk.

Oh, what? You think I'm base now?

- Your Honor... - You know what, counselor?

Lincoln Steffens once said,

Jesus replied that he could only save sinners, not the righteous.

Think on that.

What'd you do? Walk home?

You were supposed to be at Locke-Ober...

I can't. Not tonight, Siobhan.

And what the fuck is your problem?

You won't want to hear it.

You said it would happen.

You said it would happen a million fucking times.

And what's that?

They handed me a shit case

a cop shooting.

Then they don't want me to prosecute.

They want me to let the guy who shot the cop off.

I refuse. Then they put a cop up on the stands

who lies about the whole thing.

The cop shooter walks.

I-I can't win. I can't fucking win.

Why didn't you just do what they asked?

Because I'm not their fucking boy!

Oh, yeah, there it goes. Right there, uh-huh.

I knew you'd say that.

I didn't say anything DeCourcy.

You told me not to take the job.

Ross and Goodwin woulda made you a better offer

than they made me, but no.

I like what my job should be.

That's not the way things are.

So why are you acting like it is?

'Cause I'm a fucking asshole, Siobhan.

- I'm a fucking asshole. - Okay.

Quoting my own argument back to me

isn't going to get you any pity.

You know, and using logic isn't gonna get me

to go to Locke-Ober tonight either.

Fuck off.

The fuck she so mad at?

Oh, my God.

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

Yeah! Oh!

Stupid fuck! Fuck off!

What the fuck is wrong with you?

Fuck. I should just get a sign on the ceiling above my bed.

"You did good today 'cause you took your fucking meds."

I fucking knew it.

What's gonna have to happen to you before you learn, huh?

- Oh, fuck. - Or are you just gonna

let us all in for the ride till you figure it out?

Just let Ma watch you kill yourself by inches.

You know, don't give me that shit, okay?

Shut the fuck up!

Shut the fuck up and listen to me!

This shit that you pull,

it don't just affect you anymore.

We're not 18 years old, throwing shit at the TPF

off the roofs of the Bunker Hill projects.

I got kids.

Three of them!

One who cried herself to sleep the other fucking night

because her father didn't come home.

He's at the station house

picking up her scumbag fuckin' uncle.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Frankie.

Don't. Don't.

I don't want to fuckin' hear it.

Genuinely, no. Genuinely, I'm sorry.

Start and unfuck your head.

- Okay, yeah. - All right?

Yeah.

Bye, Daddy.

Oh, this is the best it is ever gonna be for you, you dolt.

No, I know. I know. I'm sorry.

What was she upset about? The kid?

She remembered Kelly.

Kelly Kanicki?

Are you all right now?

Yeah. No, I'm all right. Yeah.

You know I love you, you prick.

All right. What time's the judge need you back for?

Court doesn't start for another forty.

All right, you'll be all right.

Listen, I just hope they don't got any rapists on trial today,

because they are not going to be able to contain themselves.

You are so bad, Cath.

I'm just saying.

Let's see. Oh, we're good to go.

All right. Yeah. Let's get you up.

Did you hear about that thing in Revere?

What, the dead armored car guards?

Thought they were just missing.

Where you think they are, Foxwoods?

He hit me in the face.

Kick, what the fuck happened to you?

Who hit you? With what?

Johnny O'Malley, with a hockey stick.

Oh, my God. What, did he do this to you on purpose?

- Yeah. - Jesus Christ.

Guys, she's gotta be out of here in 30.

- Can you just...? - Don't worry, I got her.

Sit down. Shit.

Come here.

Sit down. Look at me. All right.

Fuck, where is that thing?

Come here. All right, all right, don't touch it, all right?

Oh, my God, baby, you look...

Here, put this on there. Hold it tight.

Hold it right there.

It's all right. You can cry. You can be upset.

Whatever you need to do.

But you cry, and then you get even.

You understand me?

How?

You have my permission.

You go and break Johnny's dick.

Guard your face. Guard your face.

Like that. Like that. Now, on three. Okay, you ready?

You ready? One, two, three.

Go! Harder!

Right here, that's the champion.

That's the champion. You're the loser.

One, two, three, go!

Stop!

She wins. She wins.

Great job. You were in the game the whole time.

Okay, here we go. No, no, no.

Hey, hey, hey, put up your hands.

Let me see what you got. Go like that.

Guard you face. Guard your face like that.

Like that. Now, on three. Okay, you ready?

One, two, three, go!

Harder! Faster! Oh...

We didn't get enough.

How much?

Maybe 1,500 each.

- For all that? - Yeah.

Jimmy needs to see his kids.

As much as I would really love

to see your brother gone,

you got your own kids to worry about.

Have you looked at your daughter's face?

I'm not lettin' Kick go out like that.

What are you hiding underneath this housecoat?

All right, don't get any ideas.

Hmm?

You got two kids awake downstairs,

and the big kid down there too.

Yeah? What's family for, except to help you get fucked, huh?

- Oh, is that what we do? - Yeah.

Is that what we do? We fuck? Is that what we do?

What are you hiding under here, huh?

- Rosary beads. Get off of me. - Rosary beads?

There's only one bead I really care about.

Oh, my God, will you stop being so foul?

What's wrong with you?

- Hmm? - Knock it off.

What?

- Oh, yeah? - Yeah.

Shut up.

Just kick it up to the U.S. Attorney's.

Put those in my office will ya'?

Ward, what are you still doing here?

Yeah, don't you have a wife?

Unfortunately. What's going on?

Armored car job in Revere Beach.

Three missing guards.

All presumed dead.

If this is Murder One, we can get a piece of it.

It's a capital case.

Yeah, but the Feds'll eat it.

And why would we want them to do that?

It's an armored car job in Revere.

So you can lay odds someone

from Charlestown's responsible.

Which means no Boston cop

wants to get involved in a joint investigation

because they know exactly what they're going to hear

out of every single witness.

Like, "Fuck yourself, I ain't seen nothing."

He's not from around here.

Where you from again, Ward?

Brooklyn.

Look, a case like this

is the single worst thing we have to deal with.

So if the Feds'll eat it, we let them.

Nobody wants a part of that.

How are you?

- You all right? - Yeah.

Yeah, good evening.

It was that night.

Three of the Angiulos were in that café

when we busted 'em.

But the fourth wasn't.

Donato. Donato Angiulo.

But finally, Salvie says,

"Fuck it, let's just go knock on the prick's door."

We drive up to his house, Prince Street,

knock on their door.

Nice old Italian lady lets us in.

And I remember

staring at him and thinking...

"This motherfucker was gonna fuck me up."

And he sees this. And he says to me,

"What the fuck are you thinking about?"

And I say,

"Irony abounds."

Irony abounds. That's a good line.

What's that from?

Arthur Bremer.

He shot Wallace.

Now you see this guy here?

This is DeCourcy Ward.

This is the next mayor of Boston.

That'll be the day.

Thanks for the drink.

Who's that, your priest?

Yeah. Yeah, he cleans up real good come Sunday.

What can I do for you, D?

You know, you were right.

We got off on the left foot.

What I should have done, I realize now,

is ask for a quid pro quo.

What do you want?

My way, which I got.

No, but, I mean, long-term.

Honestly?

I want to sail eight years to my pension,

get a job in private security somewhere,

never do another honest day's work in my life.

Okay.

Well, look, there's this case, right?

Now, a case like this, you can coast on,

just like you coasted on Angiulo in '83.

A couple days ago,

a crew knocked over an armored car in Revere.

And the guards? Still missing.

You're friends with the federal prosecutor.

What the fuck do you need me for?

I don't want this investigation taken from me.

I want to run it.

And I don't want to just bury who did it.

No, I want to go into Charlestown

and I want to fuck that place up.

What about your boss?

Fuck him.

Fuck all of 'em.

Fuck anyone else who gets in my way.

Mac.

Can I get a whisky, neat?

No, you see, this is good.

This means you're learning.

Stop.

You do one.

One.

Whatever the takes are, you're gettin'...

Out.

I don't want to hear about the next one

or some other fucking score you got lined up.

You take the money, get straight.

You understand?

Uh-huh.

What are you smiling at?

You love it too much, don't you?

Didn't take much, getting you to do it again.

Took almost nothing.

Yeah.

- Jimmy, keep your fucking... - Hello.

Frank.

I wanna do another one.

Another truck.

After last time?

You guys allergic to money all of a sudden?

But I'm not gonna work with this guy, Frankie.

What am I? What? What am I, dog shit?

Hey, shh.

No, you're a fucking wasted sperm cell.

I'm a wasted fuckin' sp... That's a good one.

- Shut your fuckin' mouth. - Know what? I've been robbin'

since I was eight years fuckin' old.

What have you been doing, Tommy?

And you've been getting caught.

I been gettin' caught? Hey, fuck you! Fuck you!

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

- Hey! Hey! - Fuck you!

- Shut the fuck up! - Punk!

Fuck me? I'll break your fucking neck!

Hey!

Come and get me, punk.

- Hey, relax... - Come and get me!

- Get in the fuckin' car. - I'm goin'!

- Get in the car. - Frankie!

- Frankie! - I'm goin' again.

I'd love to have you join me.

Let me know if you can do it, all right?

Frank! You know what you're doin'?

Get the fuck out of the rain.

This is fucking stupid.

Turn your fucking head around.

See? It's not that complicated what we're trying to do here.

It's just a matter of how far you're willing to go,

how much shit you're willing to eat.

I can do what I got to do.

Okay.

So...

we know that our perpetrators

are most likely a few pieces of shit from Charlestown, right?

There's more bank robbers in Charlestown

than any other square mile in the English-speaking world.

But you can't convict them, because they don't talk.

So, we use what you've got.

You're the DA.

You got the number-one thing that's going to scare

every piece of shit in this city.

The grand jury.

No scumbag can work when the grand jury is on.

So, what we do

is we find a big case gone cold.

We round up every bank-robbing suspect we can,

and you grant them immunity on the cold case.

Then, when you get them in front of the grand jury,

you hit them with questions about the robbery.

It's jail time, they don't want to talk to you.

How'd you figure all that?

D.C. law school. Class of '68, motherfucker.

It's a risky move.

But given the circumstances:

three dead bodies,

Charlestown, black DA.

People will probably give you credit.

So I gotta ask you, what changed your mind?

About you?

Beyond necessity?

You'd said something.

Reminded me when I was a kid.

My father, he worked for the SCLC.

He knew King.

He was in Memphis when King was shot.

And when I was a kid,

he'd come home getting his head kicked in

by the Bull Connors of the world...

and he'd beat the living shit out of us.

He, uh...

caught me with a thumb one night.

You're right.

Only the bad understand.

Irony abounds.

Go, go!

Drop the fucking bag, motherfucker!

Down! Down! Get the fuck down!

I'm going to be a lot more valuable to you now.

That robbery up at Revere?

I know where the bodies are buried.