All language subtitles for NCIS.New.Orleans.S01E01.HDTV.x264-LOL_en

♪ ♪

That there's rent,
drinking money,

maybe even a down payment
on a truck.

Now, that's a catch.

That's trouble, Dale.

You know better
than to mess with Amy.

Hey, Macey...

Don't "Hey, Macey" me.

You the one sleeping with her?
What? No.

She ain't even my type.
Ain't that right, Jesse?

Oh, I'll pop your head off

just like one of them shrimp.
Do you hear me?

What do you got
to say for yourself,

you sorry son of a bitch, huh?!

Leg.

Ooh.

♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪

♪ Bang, bang, bang, bang ♪

♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪

♪ How, how, how, how ♪

♪ Hey, hey ♪

New Orleans 1x01 ♪
Musician Heal Thyself
Original Air Date on September 23, 2014

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

♪ You gotta come on. ♪

Haven't gotten used to the
Crescent City nightlife, Brody?

It's my living situation.

Short-term lease
in a double in Broadmoor.

Every night the same thing:
wasted college students

and neighborhood kids
lighting firecrackers.

You know those
aren't firecrackers.

I was trying
to be optimistic.

Oh, someone party hard
last night?

Noisy neighbors.

Oh, I'm just
hazing her.

I know Brody
doesn't go out.

I go out.
I mean, maybe not

to the places where fine dining
meets hurricanes,

but I do go out.

Yeah, sure,
you do, Brody.

All right, Christopher,
what we got?

Boot is current Navy issue,
so we're operating

on the assumption
the leg is as well.

Dwayne. Christopher.
Morning.

Agent Brody,
you look tired.

I hope it was
worth it.

Loud kids. Gunshots.
Not worth it.

Hey, don't sweat it, Brody--
from now on,

I'm gonna act
as your personal rental agent.

Just like I did
with my sister.

Find you a place
you're gonna love.

Where we at
with I.D.'ing the...

catch of the day, Loretta?

DNA'll take time.
Unfortunately,

there's no identifying
characteristics other than...

...the victim's most
likely African-American.

Based on the
decomp, I'd say

the leg's been in the
water at least a week.

Gator attack?

Muscle cut's too clean.

Boating accident?

Angry shark?

Rabid squid?

Mutant starfish from hell?

Just trying to keep it light.

Based on the marks on the bones,

I'd say it's inconsistent
with a propeller

or a mutant starfish, but...

I think it's a single blade.

Have to autopsy to make sure.

All right, Christopher,

take our recent
Midwestern transplant

and introduce her
to the Coast Guard,

get them to help
in the search.

Let's find the rest of him.

You got it, King.

Advertise your product or brand here
contact www.OpenSubtitles.org today

Captain Lee.
Pride.

Just couldn't stay
away from my gumbo, could you?

Oh, how I wish I were here for
a little culinary inspiration.

Hope you don't mind--
your guard let me in.

No problem.

Look, I don't know
how to say this,

but the kid you mentored,

Petty Officer 2nd Class
Calvin Parks,

he's unauthorized absence.

You sure?

His OIC hasn't heard from
him for a couple of days.

I was hoping he contacted you.
Couple of days?

He told me himself just
how much you helped him out

by steering him
towards the Navy.

Not many people
would help a boy

escape a past like his.

Yeah, well, Calvin
would have found his own way.

I just gave him a little push.

Yeah, well,
you should be proud of him.

That kid's been a squared-away
sailor since day one.

He probably just found
some young lady to distract him.

But if that's the case,

he will be facing
disciplinary action.

Give me a call

if you hear from him, will you?

Yeah. I will.

Good to see you, Pride.

Loretta.
I have a strange request.

Not as strange as a boot
with a leg on my autopsy table.

Could you use the size
of a victim's foot

as a basis
for a general description?

Hey, Pride.

Or should I say "Dwayne"?

I thought it might be
more appropriate for me

to start calling you Dwayne,
what with us

consulting for NCIS
all these years.

After all, the use of first
names is a sign of familiarity,

and we're a far cry from when
the surname was an indication

of a man's trade, so...
Sebastian.

I'll stick
with Pride, for now.

Yeah. Uh, anyway,
I started a computer simulation

to estimate height,
weight and age of the deceased

in case the body
was never found.

Then let me ask you...

could it be a...

23-year-old African-American?

Six, three; maybe 220 or...

225 pounds?

It's possible, even likely.

I'll send you
a name and a photo.

Yeah, baby.

Let's take

a quick five, all right?

Dwayne! My man!

Papa Parks.

You sounded good.
You want to sit in next set?

Have you... have you heard
from Calvin lately?

Uh, it's been at least
a couple weeks.

He'd come over for supper. Why?

You know I think
the world of Calvin.

He's like my blood,
the son I never had.

Dwayne...

just tell me.

Something...

might have happened to Calvin,
something bad.

But you're not sure?
Mm-mm.

I'm not sure.

Papa, we're up again.

Only two things
I ever loved in this life:

Calvin and jazz.

Gonna hold on tight

to one...

and pray I haven't
lost the other.

All right, Papa!

Yo, Pride, you here?

Kitchen.

Wow! Smells good!

Morning, King.

What time you get in?

Well, that assumes I left.

You know I've been
staying upstairs.

Eggs Creole...

andouille sausage
and remoulade sauce.

Nice.

Grab plates,
and tell me where we are

with the Calvin Parks
investigation.

So, last night we went down
and searched his rack.

Nothing out
of the ordinary,

but we did recover
a personal laptop.

Password-protected?
Which we've sent out

to get a work-around.
Meantime, we thought

we'd canvass
his day-to-day contacts.

He was assigned to the pier-side
Fleet Logistics Center.

He worked the wharfs,
loading inventory,

food and equip.

Okay, you two
take the wharfs.

I'll go see

Doc Wade about forensics.

Let me talk
to him for a second.

Yep.

Just gonna go...

grab my... phone.

Pride, I can take the morgue,
if you like.

I thought since... you
were personally involved,

you might want
to take a pass on this one.

Got a decade-old
friendship with Papa.

You think I'm just
gonna sit on my hands?

And if the things
we uncover

are things you and he
don't want to hear?

We face what
we got to face.

Take Brody,

learn things.

What the hell
you waiting for?

Well, you did offer breakfast.

We'll take it to go.

You're the longshoremen
supervisor-- and that's...

a civilian position?
Contractor, yeah.

Port is zoned mixed-use,
so... we have various clients,

which include the Navy.

And you oversaw
Petty Officer Parks?

Cal.

Yeah. Good kid.

Great kid. On time.

Polite. Hard-working.

Something more?

I don't want to speak
ill, you know?

But... maybe old
habits die hard.

Hey!

What in the
kingdom of God

are you two doing? Huh?

Get over to Governor
Nicholls Street Wharf,

off-load those pallets.

Got to keep an eye
on the chuckleheads.

You said, uh,
something about "old habits."

Yeah, just,

uh... just heard talk from
guys on Calvin's shift.

They said that they saw
him leave in a lowrider

with some local bangers.

Bangers are gang members.

My background is
in interrogation,

out of Detroit.

I know the lingo. Thanks.

Anyone get a look
at any of these...

bangers?

Like I said,

I wasn't there to see this,

but... the guys said

that, uh, they didn't
look too friendly.

Body was discovered

wrapped in plastic
in a shallow grave

near Highway 11.

New Orleans East.

Highway 11 is near
the Irish Bayou.

That channels
into Lake Pontchartrain.

The leg was scooped up
in the Gulf.

How does that make sense?

I don't even know
what the weapon is yet,

but the severing is
antemortem, which means

it was disassociated
while he was still alive.

So, they kill him near a body
of water that flows to the Gulf.

The-the leg gets dumped there,
left behind,

and the body is wrapped,
moved and buried?

We have significant contusions

on the knuckles
of both hands.

So, a fight?

Well, it's defense wounds.

And although the
outcome was grievous,

Calvin got some
good licks in.

The basic theory.

Sebastian did
the simulation.

The killer came upon Calvin,
there was an altercation.

The killer had
a large, sharp object.

Think Axe.

There was the attack
that severed the limb, and...

Calvin bled out.

Dwayne...
Just keep talking, Loretta. Please.

Okay.

We found this caught up
in the clothing.

It's a second bicuspid,

probably on the right side.

It's definitely not Calvin's,

'cause he's still
sporting a full set.

So, whoever killed him
is missing a tooth.

Pull DNA?

Still running it through
the local criminal database.

There's something else
I think you should see.

That's Delta Crew, right?

Cal grew up in the Lower Ninth.

Got pulled into the gangs
by the time he was 12.

Well, based on that irritation,
that tat's new.

Fresh ink?

Very.

I saw it when I was in vice.

Gangs get their former members
to recommit.

Then they kill 'em.

It's an effective way
to show the kids

that getting out
is not an option.

It's called "dead hazing."

It's called "sadistic."

What if the Delta Crew
didn't do it themselves?

Well, it'd be the 1-1-3s.

Delta Crew and 1-1-3
have been at war for years.

That's New Orleans's answer
to the Bloods and Crips.

I'm sorry. The
Bloods and Crips?

Who-who are they exactly?

Delta Crew and 1-1-3 territories
are right next to each other.

South Galvez Street's
the border.

Which gang do you know best?

Delta Crew.
All right.

Take them. I'll introduce Brody
to the charms of the 1-1-3s.

Let's go.

All right, potential
new apartments.

2725 Prytania?

That's Uptown.

How do you feel
about $600 strollers

and organic everything?

Okay, 3115 Royal.

The Bywater.

Neck beards, thick-rimmed
glasses, fixed-gear bikes.

It's a big choice here, Brody.

Where you live
says everything.

Lasalle lives
in the French Quarter

'cause he loves being
in the middle of it all.

My wife and I--
we're in the Lower Garden,

'cause it's walking distance

from some of the best chefs
in America.

Speak.

Just looks like your
wife's in the Lower Garden.

You're in the office.

All I'm saying--

where you lay your head
in this city defines you.

Okay, so where do I go

if I want to be defined
by a full night's sleep?

Well, it's quiet.

Calvin?

I ain't seen that joker
since he went to go play GI Joe.

Well, GI Joe
is the Army.

All the same to me.
So, you can't

explain how we found him
with a fresh Delta Crew tat?

Nah.

You got any theories
on who did Calvin?

Slow down, my man.
I'm just saying.

A dead Delta--
current or former--

only means one thing, right?

1-1-3s.

Think it's time for you to go.

Think I'll sit here and finish
my cold drink, thank you.

Leave when I get ready.

Hey, Naomi.

Give me a diet orange.

That's what I'm
here for, baby.

Man, I ain't never heard
of no Calvin.

Didn't ask you
if you heard of him.

Asked why he's dead.

You got some pretty,
pretty eyes.

I've also got
a black belt in Aikido.

You know, this wouldn't
be the first time

Delta Crew done killed one
of their own, right?

How are your teeth there, Swag?

My teeth?
Yeah.

Open up. Give me an "ah."

Ah...

All original.

No cavities.

I even floss twice a day.

Cover!

Get down!
Everybody get down!

Get down.

We're reporting
from the West Bank

where violence erupted
on the streets

of New Orleans last night,
the latest chapter

in an ongoing war

between two of the area's
most notorious gangs...

Delta Crew blame 1-1-3, and
1-1-3 put it on Delta Crew.

Feels like a setup.

Just can't tell
from which side.

Ah, morning, Dwayne.

Councilman.

Got to remember
to lock the door.

Might need a...
Warm-up.

I was thinking the same.

Mm. So, how's the family,
Dwayne?

Linda well?

What can I do for you, Hamilton?

What, you need to ask?

I mean, there's a gang war
going on out there,

and I hear that
your people are the ones

who've been stirring up the pot.

We're conducting
an investigation.

Well, I'm organizing an
emergency anti-gang task force.

FBI, NOPD,
everybody's on board.

And I was... well, I was hoping

that NCIS might, uh...
want to join up, too.

We'll help any way we can.
Well, good.

Give me some names.

Let my people
start rounding up suspects.

Look, you...

you know how I feel
about this community.

No one has less love for
the gangs, but we haven't

determined that they had a
hand in Calvin Parks' murder.

Well, how long is it gonna be
before you determine something?

'Cause people want
their streets cleaned up,

and sometimes,
all that matters is appearances.

Silly me, I thought
what mattered was justice.

Okay.

You have a blessed day.

Don't ever go into
politics, Christopher.

All of a sudden, your definition
of good and evil becomes defined

by how many votes it gets you.

I trust your instincts, but...

"We hadn't determined
the gangs are involved yet"?

Something doesn't
make sense.

If the 1-1-3s did it,
they'd be expecting

the Delta Crew to retaliate,
and they weren't.

If the Delta Crew did it...

then why the drive-by?

And I... I just
can't believe

Calvin went back
into that world.

You can't, or you
don't want to?

How about a little of both?

Which one's he in?

Top right.

Want me to open it up for you?

You think
he'll reanimate

and explain what the
hell he was up to?

No.

Then what's the point?

How'd you meet Calvin?
Through Papa?

No. No, I...

I met Calvin when he was trying
to rob my house.

Linda and I came home.

Side window was broken,
there's this skinny kid

in the parlor making off
with my camera.

I grabbed his punk ass,

threw him against the wall,
and in the time it took

to turn him...

over to someone...

I saw something in him.

And, you know,
it just...

it kills me to think that
he went back into that world.

Getting out is hard, isn't it?

But he was trying to change.

We're attached to what we know.

Yeah.

I appreciate your counsel,
Loretta.

And I yours, Dwayne.

I'll leave you alone with him.

You wanted to see me?

Yeah, tech got
around the password.

There's not much here,

but basic social media sites
fill his browser history.

E-mails sent to a girl
in Shreveport.

Nothing that really leads to
or away from gang involvement.

Oh, so nothing helpful.

Well, not nothing.

He sent an e-mail to himself

from his NMCI account
to his personal account.

No subject. But inside,
there's a bunch of numbers.

Look. Big numbers.

8749 and 9449.
Some smaller.

22.3 and 12.6.

The big numbers
keep repeating.

So, he was working the wharfs.

These aren't times.

Not ship numbers
or coordinates.

3493.

I know that number.

What in the Sam Hill
does that mean?

You know how
I do crosswords.

In your head?
I see something, and it sticks.

3493. I am telling you,
that is a number I've seen.

You present yourself
all buttoned up,

but you are an
odd bird, Brody.

Thank you for coming, dear.

I love that you
can do that.

Just, eyes in the
back of your head.

Or your reflection
in the back of my camera.

Thunderstorm?

Probably what?

Mature stage multicell cluster.

It's just rain. I like rain.

Who doesn't?

Well, cats don't.

And snakes don't.

And my sister Antonia, actually,

she was a bit ombrophobic,
which I never really...

Sebastian, what could make
a tattoo disappear?

I've taken these photos,

one every three hours.

See how in each shot

the tattoo seems
to be getting lighter.

Typical putrefaction just
doesn't account for this.

Mind if I take a sample?
Mm-hmm.

I think I remember a similar
case out of Washington,

where they used the tattoo
to determine

time of death.

And Dr. Mallard was the coroner.

Lovely excuse to catch up.

Pride here.

Yeah, I'm on my way.

Walter called.

Said you weren't gonna play.

First time in 15 years, huh?

I took it apart to clean it
like I always do,

but when it came time to
put it back together,

I just... couldn't.

I'm like that.

In pieces.

You find whoever killed Calvin?

Not yet. But I will.

I know that.

And I also know

that you will feel better,

just a little,

if you play.

I just keep thinking...

if he went back
with them gangs...

that's my fault.

If I'd just
done something

or didn't do something

or-or could've done something...

I can't play, Dwayne.

Doesn't feel like I ever will.

Not without knowing
what happened.

Go grab your coat and hat.

We'll take a walk. We'll...

we'll talk.

Huh?

I got nothing to say,
old friend.

Hey, Daddy.
Hey, baby.

Hey, uh, I'm in class.
Is everything all right?

It is.

Now that I've heard your voice.

Sorry. Another late night.

Dogs barking.

Why don't you let me
help you find a place?

I appreciate
the offer. I do.

Nothing personal. I just, um...

I prefer that my work and
personal lives be kept separate.

That's not the way it works
around here.

We're all one big family.

Sooner you accept that,
the easier it's gonna be.

In the meantime,
my blood sugar's getting low.

Let's order dessert.

Mmm, okay.

Let's see. Where's
this menu at here?

Here we go.

Oh, I recommend
the bread pudding.

Key lime pie.

Can't go wrong.

Pineapple?

Pineapple?

I don't think they have any.

3493.

Pineapple.

Government uses National Stock
Numbers which contain subgroups

that identify Federal Supply
Groups, Federal Supply Classes,

NATO country codes and National
Item Identification Numbers,

or NIINs.

Slow down.
3493 is the NIIN

for pineapple, which I know

because my ex-fiancé
had a weird fruit salad fetish.

You have an ex-fiancé?

So, Calvin worked
the wharfs, right?

3493 is a number he wrote
however many times.

Pallets of pineapples.

And if the big numbers
were products,

then the smaller numbers
must have been...

Were weights. All right,
let's get back to the numbers

and figure out
what the other shipments were.

Okay, fine, but can we still
have some bread pudding?

Absolutely.

Do you remember the last time

I was in New Orleans, Loretta?

December the 25th, 2004.
Right.

Which happened to be the only
snowfall day in New Orleans

since 1989.

Well, if you were
the cause of the snow,

you're not welcome back.

Good to see you, Agent Pride.

I think the good doctor and I
just figured out

why Calvin's tattoo
was coming off.

Yes, I had a case

nearly four years ago

where the tattoo was applied

only hours prior
to the victim's death.

The result: The micropunctures
didn't have time to heal

because the blood
couldn't congeal.

We think that's what's going on
with Calvin.

All right. So...

We tried to use Ducky's case
as a baseline to approximate

when Calvin received the tattoo,

and the difference was
approximately three hours.

He got the tattoo three hours
before he died?

No.

In this case,

the tattoo was applied
after death.

The ink won't hold because
there's no blood flow at all.

So Calvin wasn't back
with the Delta Crew.

Killer put the tat on.

Posthumously.

To make this look like part
of a gang killing.

That's good work.

That'd be a four.

Okay, so subtract that
and give me the new number.

Hey!

Oh, he's up.

- You two been up all night?
- It's not like I get

any sleep at my place anyway.

We made a point of trying
to keep it down for you.

You snore.

Loud.

No, I don't.

Can you take a look at this?

So, working off
the theory

that the gang angle
isn't real, we are convinced

that the murder had to do with
Calvin working at the wharf.

Those big numbers
in Calvin's computer,

they're all NIIN for different
items loaded at the port.

3493, pineapple.

8748, bananas. 9449, coffee.

All coming in on the same boat,
which originated

in Guatemala.
So, in Guatemala,

the pallets are weighed, right?

Then the boat sails
to New Orleans,

where all the cargo
is transferred to Navy ships.

But before
it's put aboard, it's weighed again.

The smaller numbers
in Calvin's e-mails,

those are the difference
between the Guatemala

and New Orleans weights.
The pallets ended up

being lighter by the time
the Navy got a hold of them?

Smuggling.

Based on the weight
differentials,

we're thinking, uh,
guns or drugs.

So the question is,

was Calvin murdered
because he found out about it

or because he was in on it?

In on it?

Password
on his computer,

e-mails in code.

Lasalle here.
Turn that up.

Sebastian, what do you got?

I'm standing outside the offices
of Councilman Hamilton

of District C here
in New Orleans.

He'll be hosting
a press conference today

to talk about a recent rash
of gang violence

that's hit the city.

All in all, Councilman Hamilton

is positioning himself
as a law-and-order candidate

ahead of this year's
mayoral election.

Okay, turn it off.

Sebastian wants

to show us something.

It's about the tattoo ink.

All right, do it.

I'll deal with him.

I'd appreciate if you'd stop
using my murder investigation

as an excuse to grandstand.

All right, he-here's
what I don't get, okay?

All right, you are beloved from
Bourbon Street to the swamps

'cause you go out of your
way to be of assistance

to this whole
city, including...

all of my counterparts
on the council.

And yet you and I
still can't get along.

Well, maybe they're just nicer than you.

You want a task force to roll up
crime? I'm all for it.

Let's right now get out there
and go arrest people.

I only have two conditions:

We arrest them for things
they've actually done,

and we leave the
cameras behind.

Uh, what do you care,
Pride?

It was just a gangbanger who
got chopped up by another one.

He had a name.

Calvin Parks.

You call him a gangbanger again,

and our getting along problem
is gonna get a whole lot worse.

Did you know the FDA

doesn't regulate tattoo ink?

It's a weird quirk.

They regulate makeup that's
applied on top of the skin,

but since the ink goes under
the skin, it's not covered.

Meaning?
Manufacturers aren't

required to report
what heavy metals

they use for pigment bases.

And... there's no
standard mix for ink.

Some inks contain cadmium,
others use iron and copper.

So the end product that they
produce, it's kind of like...

Is like a fingerprint.

More like DNA,

but you're cooking with gas,
Agent Brody.

Anyway, I narrowed down the
list of suppliers to seven.

Then I tested their inks
against Calvin's tissue sample,

and there is only one

that uses
that exact barium-

titanium blend.
It is on Magazine.

And I will gladly share this
with you under one condition.

There's a condition?

Take me with you.
I got to get out of the lab

and just see something
that's alive.

Got to wonder what future
civilizations are gonna think

about our dabbling
in the ancient arts of ink.

They'll say drinking and tatting
don't mix.

That's how I ended up
with Big Al on my derriere.

Roll Tide.

You know,
I thought about getting

the noble gas column from
the periodic table, right...

That or something
from Lord of the Rings.

Hmm.

Brody?

It's private.

The subject matter?
Or the location?

Don't intimate about my
intimacies, please. Thank you.

I'm thinking...
a broken heart.

Sexy girl on a mud flap, and...

something to do with
Lord of the Rings.

NCIS.

Recognize this?

You're insulting me.
That's not my work.

What about this guy?

When you last saw him,
he was dead.

Whoa, wait, I don't know
anything about a dead sailor.

You sure about that?
Yeah.

Hey, what's this?
Hey, hey, hey, hey.

What are you doing? What are you doing?
Oh, sorry about that.

Hey, what are you doing?
Hey, don't worry about it.

Sebastian,
do your thing.

Got a question
for you.

Had any dental work lately?

What?
Root canal?

Cavities?
Bridge work?

Extractions?

Barium and titanium.
It's his ink.

Your skill set is gonna
come in handy trading tats

for prison hooch in Angola.

All right, look. A guy offered
me $500 for a needle and a vial.

What guy?
Cash doesn't come with a name.

Come on, look at me.
Look at my teeth.

Look at my tongue,
look whatever you need.

We'll need you to provide
a description of the man

to our sketch artist.

Sketch artist? Please.

I went to the
Rhode Island School of Design.

Ha. Rhode Island School
of Design. Artists.

Bruce has definitely
seen worse.

He can get an I.D. with
one eye and a pimple.

Ain't that right, Bruce?

So, you've nicknamed the
facial recognition system?

You bet.
Is that a problem?

You're weird.
I-I was told

that there's some body art
I should ask you about.

This is why I prefer
to keep my work

and personal lives separate.

Yes. Harold Werner.

Chucklehead
from the wharfs?

I thought he scampered
off in a hurry.

Get an address.

Harold Werner.

NCIS. Open up.

Clear.
Clear.

Clear.

Clear.

We found him.

Walk me through this.
We know Harold was in on it,

'cause he's the one
who bought the ink.

And we know he didn't
kill himself.

Stuffed in a closet
pretty much confirms that.

What's he got going
on in his mouth?

Full set. 32 and counting.

So, Harold gets done
in his own trailer.

Not likely he was
snuck up on in there.

The toothless
accomplice.

Where we gonna
find him?

Same place Calvin did.

Harold? I suppose that
does make some sense.

'Cause for years he's been
short on money. Last few months

he started
living it up.

We're wondering if you could
give us a list of people

he was working closely with,
who might have also had access

to shipments intended
for the Navy.

Of course.

Anything to help.
It's all in the office.

Can I say something?

Awfully quick to accept
Harold as a smuggler?

And if I'd lost a tooth...

I'd use ice
to dull the pain.

I'd say he starts
running in three,

two, one.

I got this.

NCIS! Stop!

Hands, hands!

Let me see your hands!

Come here.

Now, will you look at that?
Look at that.

Son, you need a dentist
like I need to move back home.

Stop resisting.

So, inside the office
we found a key

and the key led us
to the wharf shack.

The mother lode.

Heroin.

It's being sent
to the lab to confirm,

but it'd answer
what was being smuggled.

Murder weapon?

Again,

off to the lab.

And we're off to interrogation.

Warm today.

Air-conditioning
feels good, doesn't it?

All I need now is a beignet

and some lemonade,
and I'd be in heaven.

Aspirin help
your toothache?

My apologies
if I made it worse.

So, Petty Officer
Calvin Parks

discovered you were
smuggling heroin.

You had him killed him to
make sure he didn't report

what he knew
up his chain of command.

Gang tattoo was...

a clever way to throw us off.

What's bothering me

is your employment file.

Says you've only been in
New Orleans for two years.

You didn't know he had a past
with the gangs, did you?

No.

So, who told
you to put

the tattoo on Calvin's arm?

Truth will set you free.

What the hell is she doing?

Giving you a new tattoo.
Letting the inmates

in the pen know you're
the target they're looking for.

You put that tat on Calvin,

caused that little
shooting spree.

Like to think the Delta Crew

and the 1-1-3s would like
a little piece of you.

If I say what I know, gangs
are the least of my worries.

Call me when he's processed.

You're going to prison
for murdering

a United States Navy sailor.

Enjoy the party, my friend.

Afternoon, Hamilton.

Oh, afternoon,
Dwayne. Say, uh,

I hear congratulations are in
order. You got your man. Good.

Here's what I'm chewing on:

Who's got the port
in his district?

Who'd get a taste from

getting customs to look the
other way on a smuggling ring?

Who'd incite a gang war

to justify a task force?

And who would have known enough

about Calvin's
youthful indiscretions

to have suggested a tattoo?

That's quite a theory, Dwayne.

You got any proof
to back that up?

Not yet.

But you know I will.

See you around my city.

Your city?

Don't you ever forget it.

First round is on me.

What are we celebrating?

Someone has a new apartment.

Adorable little guest house
owned by a friend of Lasalle's.

It's got a garden,

rent's pretty cheap, and, uh,

it's on the Mardi Gras route.

Which defines you as...

Thrilled to be here.

Movers. Excuse me. Hello?

Guest house with a garden
on the Mardi Gras route?

When are you gonna tell Brody
who Lasalle's friend is?

When I have to raise the rent.

You know, my last two tenants
re a pain in my ass, so

it'll be nice to rent it to family.
Yeah.

Excuse me a moment.

Sure thing, Dwayne.

Thank you, Dwayne.

Think nothing of it.

Would've killed me knowing he'd
wanted back in with them gangs.

Oh, he wanted to
join a gang. Mine.

Calvin was working a
case. And he was good.

Took a lot of thinking to
figure out what was going on.

And if he was mine--

in many ways, he was--

I'd be awfully proud.

You, uh...

want to sit in
on the first song?

Be my honor.

All right.
"Go to the Mardi Gras."

B-flat.

♪ ♪Go, Pride!

King can play, can't he?

I can't believe him.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==
@elder_man

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