Original subtitles

Sherlock, you home?

I think we need a new bulb in the foyer.

Tell me where Holmes is,

and I'll let you live.

You looking for this?

I'm going to ask you one more time.

Where is Holmes?

That's pathetic.

Sherlock?

Now you hit me. Seriously?

What is your damage?

Look, given that you were held at gunpoint

in this very room little over a week ago,

I thought, perhaps, a test of your

ability to defend yourself was in order.

It was.

You have much to learn about the art of self-preservation.

Okay, if you ever do that again, I swear...

You'll what? Fall over again?

Look, the work I do is dangerous.

You know this,

yet you insist on accompanying me

virtually everywhere I go.

Last week, a violent criminal

infiltrated this brownstone while I wasn't here.

Hmm? How? You opened the door for him.

He was a federal agent.

Right, they never do anything wrong, hmm?

Realizing that you were in physical danger

was difficult for me.

If anything ever happened to you,

I'm not sure I could forgive myself.

Okay, this is not how you express concern

for someone that you want to keep safe.

Quite right, so I've reached out

to a handful of martial artists

who reside in the city, each one of them

an expert in his or her fighting style.

My hope is some combination of them

will agree to train you.

In the meantime, you should expect

more guerilla-style tests of your ability

to fight back.

You have been warned.

This is Captain Gregson.

Leave a message.

Hey, Captain, it's Bell.

Uh, sorry to call so late,

but I thought you would want to know

the Rodriguez thing is taken care of.

He finally copped to that holdup in Queens.

I'm headed home now.

I'll bring you up to speed in the morning.

♪ Elementary 1x16 ♪ Details Original Air Date on February 14 , 2013

== sync, corrected by elderman ==

♪

We're still waiting for ballistics to come back,

but inital indications are

that this was done with a semiautomatic MP5.

The MP5 meets all the requirements

for a good, old-fashioned drive-by.

It can be held with one hand by a lone driver,

it has a large magazine,

and in the hands of a marksman,

it's quite accurate at close range.

You, sir, were not assailed by a marksman.

Well, thank God for bad aim.

And air bags.

Yep, I can tell from the pattern of the holes

that the bullets were fired in three-round bursts

from a rifle barrel as opposed to a smoothbore,

which suggests that whoever's behind the attack

has access to high-level firearm augmentation.

Even if the location of the holes

reveals him to have terrible aim.

You really shouldn't have jerked your wheel.

You would've come out without a scratch.

Now you tell me.

It's funny, Detective-- the second I heard

about the attempt on your life, I dove into your case history.

I thought it would be only a matter of time

before the culprit's identity presented itself.

I was wrong.

You've done excellent work over the years.

Made a lot of enemies. There's no shortage

of people who would like to see you dead.

You say it like it's a good thing.

Well, there is, in my humble opinion,

no greater compliment an investigator can receive.

Speaks to the quality of your work.

Well, do you think we should dive back into the files

and get more specific about who was trying

to compliment Detective Bell last night?

Uh, no need, actually.

I know exactly who did this.

Curtis Bradshaw.

Old-school gangster

and all-around scumbag.

He was the target of a detail

I was assigned to in '09,

back when I was still a uni.

Aspiring drug kingpin, I see.

At the height of his power,

he was selling product all over the city.

Had a crew of almost 100, and they were moving in

on other gangs' territories, so it was getting bloody.

Hence the detail.

Says here he was suspected of crimes

ranging from racketeering to torture

and murder.

Yet he was arrested in 2011

on the mere charge of possessing stolen property.

Sentence to three years, just served 18 months.

Bradshaw was smarter than your average street thug.

He always flew under the radar;

kept just enough distance between himself

and the crimes that were being committed by his crew.

One of the detectives on the detail...

well, he got frustrated.

Stole some heroin from the evidence room

and planted it in Bradshaw's home.

Well, Bradshaw was arrested,

but then, a few days later,

someone called with an anonymous tip,

told I.A. what happened.

We had no choice but to cut Bradshaw loose.

Now, I continued to work the detail,

went undercover for a while,

got to know his crew inside and out.

Still couldn't find enough evidence to connect him

to the drugs they were trafficking, so...

So you "Caponed" him.

You arrested him

on a less significant charge

just to get him off the street.

While he was gone, we continued to chip away at his empire.

I went after his lieutenants--

they weren't nearly as careful as Bradshaw was--

and I managed to put most of them away.

Six months into his sentence,

all he had left were a few corners.

Obviously you did a lot of damage, but how can you

be sure it's the same shooter from last night?

This was Bradshaw's baby.

It's also the car that pulled up alongside me.

Now, he told me before his trial

he was going to come after me himself.

And last night, he finally did.

Obviously, I can't have Bell here

investigating his own attempted murder.

And since we just put eyes on Bradshaw,

I thought maybe you could

come with me to question him?

I suppose I could lend my services.

Thanks for not making me beg.

Hey, you got a message at the intake desk.

We were on our way up,

said we'd pass it along.

What kind of a name is Mr. Cheese?

He's, uh, one of my CIs; he's shy.

What about last night?

Yeah, it was just...

Car took the worst of it.

I'm glad you're doing okay.

How many times did you and her have sex?

God.

My over/under is ten.

Officer Reyes is an old friend.

Her partner doesn't like you very much.

It's probably because he'd like to have sex

with her as well-- and when I say "as well".

I mean in addition to and separate from,

not including you as a third party.

I know what you meant.

She boxes.

I can tell from her knuckles and the tape residue.

Perhaps she would agree to spar with you,

give me an idea of, uh, what you might be like

with an opponent in your similar weight class.

You sure this sudden new interest in my safety

has nothing to do with watching two women

engage in some foxy boxing?

You think you're foxy?

You two ready?

50 on my kid right here.

- Aah! - That's all day.

Let's play some "D," let's play some defense.

Yeah, let's go, let's go.

Guys, come on, you got to play some "D."

Curtis Bradshaw.

Captain Gregson, NYPD.

These are my associates, Holmes and Watson.

I'd like to ask you a few questions.

You're blocking my view.

Oh, yeah?

Imagine what the view's gonna look like from the precinct.

Can you account for your whereabouts

between the hours of 10:00 and 10:30 last night?

Why would I need to?

'Cause someone took a few shots

at an old friend of yours.

Detective Marcus Bell.

You know, I heard something about that on the news.

Somebody fired a whole clip into his car and didn't hit him.

See, the thing with him is,

you got to aim low.

Your car was seen

leaving the scene of the crime.

You're going to have to be more specific.

I have a few.

1968 blue Chevy Biscayne.

Get out of here.

That car was stolen two nights ago.

Did you report the car stolen? Hey, you know what?

As a matter of fact, I was going to do that today.

I'm going to ask you one more time, Mr. Bradshaw:

Can you account for your whereabouts or can't you?

Yo, he was with me, man.

We went to the movies.

We didn't leave till after midnight.

No, man, you're wrong.

He was with me last night.

He was playing cards at my cousin's place.

You pick the alibi you like the best.

You a gambling man, Mr. Bradshaw?

I've been known to make the occasional wager, but...

I bet you I can put that ball in that hoop from here.

If I win, tell us where you abandoned the car last night.

You win, tell us nothing.

British globetrotter here.

Do you agree to the terms of the bet or not?

What you got, homey?

What you got? What you got?

Look at this guy. He's a clown.

Look at this guy.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

He wasn't going to tell us anything anyway.

You gonna get that ball, right?

Marcus "Bulletproof" Bell.

I take it you heard about what happened last night.

No thanks to you.

I had to hear about it on the news.

So I hit you up at the station.

I wanted to make sure you was okay.

Now, I know you don't like me calling you there,

so I used a code name.

Well, your old gang name

is not a code name.

So, this guy, the shooter...

what'd he come at you with?

Modified MP5.

You know, um, I still know some people.

I could ask around, see who's strapped

with that kind of hardware.

Not without violating your parole, you can't.

Uh, these are for you.

It's just a few things to tide you over.

Appreciate it.

Been pretty sick of the unsold burgers

they let me take home from work every night.

Hoping to see my PO next week,

see if he can hook me up with a better job.

Hey.

You're not him, by the way.

My parole officer.

You don't have to case my place

to see if I've been up to anything.

I'm not casing anything, Andre.

What, you think I'm stupid, Marcus?

You've only been out a few weeks.

I'm just trying to look out for you.

You don't got to look out for me, okay?

I look out for you.

I'm the big brother here.

Andre... I'm serious, Marcus.

I know you're embarrassed.

A cop with an ex-con in the family.

But it is what it is.

When Detective Bell said that Curtis Bradshaw

was smarter than the average thug,

he was putting it mildly.

He never came within 1,000 yards

of the drugs he was distributing.

He allowed a small cadre of trusted lieutenants

to oversee almost every transaction.

I'm beginning to see why the detective on his detail

felt compelled to plant evidence in his home.

Mickey Hudson, right?

Most of these are his notes.

I was thinking he might be a good person to talk to.

Yes, he might be.

If he wasn't so very dead.

Hudson was brought up on charges in 2009,

committed suicide just before the trial began.

Don't you think it's weird that Bradshaw

went after Bell himself?

I mean, he doesn't like to get his hands dirty.

So, why not farm out the hit to one of his lieutenants?

His grudge with Bell is very clearly personal.

Nothing makes a smart man stupid

like a thirst for vengeance.

As you well know, I speak from experience.

I appreciate your help with these files, by the way.

No, Bell is family at this point.

Well, he's an excellent resource.

He's come to appreciate the efficacy of my methods,

and he shares sensitive information when needed.

Yeah. If he's murdered,

I'll have to start over with another detective.

Well, I'm going to order some Thai.

Do you want anything?

Ow!

What the hell was that about?! Don't be cross.

It could've been a knife.

I told you to expect more tests of your reflexes

while I await word from potential trainers.

Because you're afraid I might get hurt. I remember.

In case you haven't noticed,

the only person who has been hurting me is you.

You're angry. That's good.

Come on, come at me. Come on. Come on!

These locks... you put them in some special order

the other day, right?

They're arranged in country of origin.

Do it again.

Excuse me, sir?

Sir, you can't sit there.

Sir!

Fine, have it your way.

I'm calling the police.

It's Paula, correct?

Officer Reyes. Oh.

You, you're the consultant, right?

Yep.

We have a mutual friend.

Detective Bell.

Although I've never seen him naked.

Hey. Little respect.

I was wondering if you might tell me where you box.

I'm looking for a gym for my associate, Ms. Watson.

How did you know I boxed?

No more talking.

Not now.

Captain.

If you're thinking about pulling a rabbit

out of the hat, get to it, would you?

Media's already working a "killer cops" angle.

They think this is retribution

for the attack on Detective Bell.

Ridiculous.

Astute, actually.

You think a cop did this?

I'm afraid I found evidence

that would suggest that Detective Bell did this.

It's a boot print.

So what?

It's a size ten.

Pergotti.

I know I'm a detective, Holmes,

but part of a boot print

doesn't really tell me a whole story.

I found this print precisely where the killer

was standing when they shot Curtis Bradshaw.

Then I remembered your dark gray summer suit

you favored in September.

Always paired with your brown Pergottis.

You are a size ten, aren't you?

Captain.

I'm confused.

You guys coming at me?

Of course not.

But the press

is just hung up on the timing.

It's just an ugly piece of luck.

If it's just about timing, why is Holmes

standing in my house

talking about my shoes?

Did you guys forget there were two uniforms

posted outside my door all night last night

in case Bradshaw came after me again?

That's not much of an alibi, I'm afraid.

I've already calculated six different ways

that you could have given those patrolmen the slip.

Fine. Four avenues of escape,

plus two variations on the fifth.

There's the back balcony, the fire escape...

I know we're not the best of friends or anything,

but do you honestly believe I would kill a man?

Even one as worthless as Curtis Bradshaw?

I should think anyone might kill,

given the right circumstances.

But no, I don't think that you

would shoot a man in cold blood.

Good.

Nevertheless, you will need answers

rather than indignation

when these questions are being posed

by someone other than us.

Can you give us a minute?

Water closet?

If that means bathroom, I'm sure you can find it.

What's he mean, questions being asked?

You guys got a print from a boot a thousand guys must own.

We also got a perp who took two center mass.

Just like they trained us at the academy.

And nobody else with a gun knows where to aim it?

You got any real suspects?

If we did, I wouldn't have to put you on administrative duty.

Hey, I don't bench you,

how's it going to play?

We're going to color inside the lines on this.

That way, when it's over, everyone knows you're clean.

Whenever you're ready, Captain.

Whoever did this, we're gonna find him.

I promise you.

You were held at gunpoint?

We both were. Me and Sherlock's friend.

His ex-dealer.

There was a struggle.

Uh, the man with the gun was incapacitated,

but then Rhys was shot in the abdomen.

I was able to stabilize him until the paramedics took over.

Did he pull through, the man who was shot?

Yes, he did. What about you?

Have you noticed any post- traumatic symptoms in yourself?

Anxiety?

No.

Nightmares?

I-I've been sleeping just fine.

You know I've always been supportive

of your exploration of Sherlock's work,

but your pattern with him has become troubling.

For one thing, you haven't told him

you're no longer being paid to serve as his sober companion.

And now it sounds as if your life

is at risk in his home.

Oh, he would agree with you.

He's been pushing me to learn self-defense.

When's the last time you talked about boundaries with him?

Oh, I-I talk about them all the time.

He-he doesn't always listen.

May I give you my professional opinion?

Please.

It's time you moved on, found a new client.

It's been a grand adventure,

these last few months with Sherlock,

but it's run its course.

But I'm not staying with him for some "grand adventure."

His work placed you in real physical danger.

You could have been killed.

You claim he respects you, that he cares about your safety.

If he really cares,

and if he's really as smart as you say he is, tell me,

why isn't he the one telling you to move on?

Is another test of my reflexes?

Because you're about to see how quickly

I can call the police.

Watson, you startled me.

Sorry about the din.

I needed something to obscure the sound

of my ballistics exam.

This is a residence.

There are people that live in this neighborhood.

You don't do a ballistics exam here.

As a matter of fact,

you don't do a ballistics exam, period.

You let the police do them.

Of course, you're right.

But I'm afraid, in this instance,

surrendering this weapon to the police

was the last thing I could do.

Glad you got my message.

I just wanted to tell you that I reached out.

Some of my old people, they like their toys.

You know how to tune up an MP5, these boys know you.

Man, what did I say?

Hold up, hold up.

I got a name. Tico Bettis.

Out of Bed-Stuy. If he's the one

who tweaked that gun, he might know who used it.

You're welcome.

You're not allowed to be

in contact with your old people.

I called a couple of old friends

'cause my brother got shot at.

You don't think the NYPD knows about Tico?

My boss talked to him and five just like him

before they pulled my car out the gutter.

He's clean.

Your PO finds out you've been talking

to your old friends, you go back in.

For what? Nothing.

Hey, hey, I just wanted to help, man.

Why don't you help yourself for a change, huh?

You can't understand that I... that I...

that I might want to do something that matters?

Look, I know what you're going through.

No, no, man, you got no idea. Andre...

You got no idea what this is like.

But who knows?

Maybe someday...

you will.

So, I got a text to be here?

Yeah, he needs to talk to you about something.

Are those bullet holes in that dummy?

They are. You know, if you fired a gun

in here, I could arrest you. I do.

Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?

Sherlock thinks that someone's trying to frame you

for the murder of Curtis Bradshaw.

Look, if this is about

those Pergottis again, we're talking about a boot

you could buy in any department store in the city.

If the guy who killed Bradshaw

wanted me to take the fall,

he's the worst frame-up artist I've ever seen.

The boots were only the first part of the plan.

The gun was the second. What gun?

What are you talking about?

Where'd you get that?

Your home.

No sooner had I entered

your bathroom today than I noticed

the unmistakable scent of a recently expended firearm.

I followed it to an air-conditioning vent,

found this nine-millimeter

tucked inside.

I've never seen that gun before in my life.

I believe you.

Yet it was the last thing Curtis Bradshaw saw in his.

I just compared the slugs I fired into that dummy

with images from the ones

recovered from Mr. Bradshaw's body.

Perfect match.

I just heard back from the lab.

They confirmed this is the gun

that was used to kill Curtis Bradshaw.

Do tell.

I'm glad you found it.

What exactly compelled you to go poke around

in Dumpsters in the neighborhood where Bradshaw was shot?

A hunch. Oh.

Well, I'm glad you found it.

What I'm less glad about

is that there were no prints recovered.

So, technically,

you're still a suspect in the shooting.

I.A. hasn't given you any grief yet, have they?

Not yet.

All right, well, keep your cool,

and we'll keep trying to figure out

who pulled the trigger.

All right.

You were uncomfortable with the lie that we've told.

You shouldn't be. Easy for you to say.

Why? Because I'm a mere consultant

and you're a real policeman, huh?

You think I don't have as much respect

for the captain as you do?

No, of course not. Huh.

I removed the gun from your apartment for two reasons.

Firstly, I'm absolutely certain that you didn't shoot

Curtis Bradshaw. Why?

Because only an idiot would've brought the gun

back to his apartment after he'd used it.

And you, Detective, are not an idiot.

Thank you. Secondly,

I don't want to put our friend, the captain,

in the unenviable position of having to open a case

against his favored apprentice and right-hand man.

If he knew this gun was found in your apartment,

he would have no choice but to inform Internal Affairs.

The last thing our investigation needs right now

is a jaunt around the bureaucratic maypole,

wouldn't you agree?

So, what now?

I would like to take a second look at your apartment.

Just out of curiosity, Detective, how many of those

do you have-- keys to your apartment?

Why do you want to know?

Your framer obviously

didn't force their way in,

so they either picked the lock or they have a key.

No.

You're certain? Of course.

Look, go to my place, do that thing you do.

I'll keep trying to think of suspects.

If anyone comes to mind, I'll call you.

Mmm.

Andre?

Over here.

So what is it you couldn't say to me over the phone?

Oh, wait. I'm sorry. Aren't you worried

somebody here may figure out we're family?

I want to talk to you about Curtis Bradshaw.

Nah, see, I'm not allowed to discuss criminal activity.

You were pretty clear about that last night.

Would you please listen?

Somebody's trying to frame me for murder.

That drive-by was just a stunt.

Somebody put Bradshaw's stink on it,

trying to fit me for a motive.

Then they killed the man, and they...

hid the gun in my house.

Are you serious?

Oh, we got a few leads.

Obviously, he knows where I live,

had a way to get in quick, quiet.

And we know he wears Pergotti boots.

Just like the ones

that were in that box of clothes

I gave you when you first got out.

You think it's me. I didn't say that.

Yeah, you did. Hey, Andre...

Well, that's why you brought me down here, right?

Just in case you were right,

you could throw me in a cell somewhere.

I mean, it's not like I could

bring a gun up in here with...

Hey, you stayed with me when you first got out.

You could have made a copy of my house key.

Then, last night, you said, maybe someday I would

know what it was like to be you?

What, and you thought that meant I would try to...

Look, things have been bad

between us for a long time, Andre.

No, things have been bad

ever since you decided to become a cop.

I should have joined a gang, like you?

Gone out and run a corner?

You know, I've sacrificed everything for you.

You did what came easy to you.

The only thing you ever sacrificed were years

you could have shaved off your sentence if you had rolled

on your friends when you got arrested.

Years you could have spent with me, with mom.

Please, if that was you

shot up my car the other night,

if you had anything to do

with what happened to Curtis Bradshaw,

now is the time to tell me.

Now is the time to let me try and help you.

Andre?

Hey.

Andre?

Bell! Bell!

Hey, back.

Back! Hey, it's okay. It's fine.

It's all right. He's my brother.

Oh, I take it the bathroom is also a bust.

That depends.

Can you think of any reason

that Bell would have a lingerie catalogue

in which your head has been superimposed

on almost all of the models?

He hasn't, but can you think of any reason he would?

Okay, you're just frustrated because

we've been here for a few hours

and we haven't found anything.

I'm annoyed because we haven't found anything.

I'm frustrated because,

despite the recent attempt on a colleague's life,

you still haven't agreed to learn self-defense.

You know, I appreciate

your concern with my safety, I really do,

but I think we need to have a conversation

about boundaries.

Okay, you know, you've given me this incredible window

into what you do, and you know what?

It is fascinating, but at the end of the day,

I am not your apprentice. I am your sober companion.

No, you're not! No, you are not.

You haven't been for quite some time.

Sherlock, what are you...? I know that

you lied to me several weeks ago when you said

that my father had renewed your contract.

I found out when I telephoned him last week.

I'm not angry.

If anything, I am grateful.

You saw that I was in a raw state,

and you stayed to see me through it.

Now, when I learned of the lie, however,

I-I deliberately adopted a more sanguine mood.

I wanted you to see that I was well again

so you could... move on.

But the most curious thing happened.

You stayed.

Days passed, then a week.

It became clearer and clearer

that you were not staying for me,

but for yourself.

Sherlock, I...

It's difficult for you to say aloud, I know,

so I won't ask you to.

Rather, I would ask you to consider a proposal.

Stay on permanently.

Not as my sober companion, but as my companion.

Allow me to continue to teach you.

Assist me in my investigations.

In return, you will receive a stipend

that will at least equal

the salary my father was paying you.

You don't even have a source of income.

I have certain funds set aside.

You may continue to reside at the brownstone,

you may reside elsewhere.

You may also consider yourself relieved

of any and all confidentiality burdens

with regards to my sobriety.

See, this is an important decision,

and I encourage you to discuss it with others.

Explain what you have been to me...

and what I believe you can be to me.

Hmm?

Partner.

Oh, and lest you think that this is an act

of, uh, charity, a gift from a grateful client,

let me assure you, it is not.

I am... better with you, Watson.

Um, I'm sharper, I'm more focused.

Difficult to say why, exactly.

Perhaps, in time, I'll solve that, as well.

Andre?

Look, I know you're in there. I can hear the TV.

I just... I want to apologize for what I said before.

I never should have called you down to the station like that.

Can you just... Andre?

Andre, you in here?

...opening fire with a 12-gauge shotgun...

Andre!

Oh, no. No, no, no, no.

Hold on. Hold on.

Yeah. This is Detective Marcus Bell,

badge number 42819.

I need an bus at 73 Parsons Boulevard.

Male shot at the scene.

Be advised, the victim... is my brother.

Come here.

It's interesting.

We were in Detective Bell's apartment

for four hours this afternoon.

I saw nothing that would indicate he had a brother.

Well, he did say before he left for the hospital

that they were not on the best of terms.

Still... I'm me.

You've been staring at that message

for over five minutes now.

Have I?

I don't think it's a coded message.

No. No, but it's admirable, though, isn't it?

I mean, whoever tried to frame Detective Bell

clearly had the same idea here.

I foiled the first frame-up when I delivered

the nine-millimeter to the police.

I said that I found it, hmm?

They tried a second attempt.

Detective Bell's sibling lost consciousness,

but before he did, he makes a valiant attempt

to make sure that he doesn't end up a prop in that masquerade.

How do you know it was the same shooter?

Andre is an ex-convict.

His legal file is over four inches thick.

Who knows what kind of trouble he might have been in?

Obviously, Andre Bell knew that he wasn't in any at all.

Why else would he use what might have been his last breath

to try and clear his brother?

He understood what this was.

Look.

You see the slight declivity in the dirt?

If that's not another partial Pergotti footprint

meant to implicate Detective Bell,

I'll stop throwing tennis balls at you.

You can tell what that is all the way from here?

Don't you think it's time for us

to tell Captain Gregson about the framer?

I think I would like to discuss it with the detective first.

I obviously put certain wheels in motion

when I removed the handgun from his apartment.

I don't want to make another move without his consent.

I'll tell him.

You were just trying

to help me out, and him.

He'll understand, but...

but I think he'll take it better

coming from me.

Look, this isn't right.

They said they were gonna close him up

20 minutes ago.

It takes time.

It's a good sign they decided to suture.

You saved his life.

If anyone could take

two slugs to the back and pull through,

it's Andre.

He's a stubborn bastard.

Today that is a good thing.

About time it started working for him--

ruined the last three years

of his life. What do you mean?

Nothing. I just...

never quite forgave him for staying in as long as he did.

A while back, I cashed in a big favor

to get him an early parole hearing.

But the dope...

he wouldn't play ball.

All he had to do was identify his gang's drug hookup.

Mind you, the police already knew who the guy was.

He was serving ten to 20.

But Andre has his code.

He wouldn't talk; served his full term.

It was you.

You were the one who blew the whistle

on the Curtis Bradshaw detail.

What?

I looked at some of Andre's files tonight.

His first parole hearing was June 2009,

one month after Mickey Hudson

was busted for planting evidence.

I don't know what you're talking about.

It fits.

Your place is immaculate.

Your sock drawer is immaculate.

You're a straight shooter in every corner of your life,

and your frustration with Andre because he wouldn't talk...

I don't see why it matters.

It matters, Detective. Did you earn the favor

by informing on your boss or not?

I wasn't gonna watch some dirtbag plant evidence.

That wasn't right. Someone had to speak up.

So what? So what?

We've been looking at the wrong pool of suspects.

Anyone from the old detail would have had the requisite skills

and the motive to carry out these crimes.

They'd want to see you punished.

Nobody knew.

Perhaps they found out.

You wanted to see me, Captain?

Have a seat, Officer Reyes.

Did I do something wrong? Oh, we have reason

to believe you did several things wrong.

Shooting up Detective Bell's car,

for example.

Killing Curtis Bradshaw.

Planting the murder weapon in Bell's residence.

Shooting his brother when the first frame-up went sideways.

Wha... what?

We recently had occasion to take a very careful look

at the members of the Curtis Bradshaw detail who worked

with Detective Mickey Hudson

in 2009, and there you were.

Yeah, and?

Well, you looked up to Hudson, you respected him.

He wrote you a recommendation when you applied

for promotion to the vice squad.

Yeah, he was good police.

Well, there are some members of Internal Affairs

who would disagree with you.

The rat squad?

I never much cared what they thought.

Well, Detective Evan Carlyle,

of the rat squad,

would be most disappointed to hear you say that.

We know that you've been seeing him on and off

for the past few months.

And we strongly suspect

it had something to with gaining access to his most

sensitive files.

Three years ago, when I.A. first

started to investigate Hudson,

they came to suspect that maybe you had helped him steal

the drugs that wended their way into Curtis Bradshaw's home.

Yeah, they questioned me.

I told them I had nothing to do with it.

And Hudson backed your story, probably

because he'd already decided to kill himself.

Why's he gonna ruin your life

when he'd already decided to end his own?

But you still had a black mark against you.

Department couldn't take any real action against you,

but you were told vice was never gonna happen.

You were undeterred.

You applied three more times.

After your most recent rejection,

I imagine you were incensed.

You simply had to know--

who was it who tipped off I.A. as to Hudson's transgressions?

Must have broken your heart when you found out

that it was Detective Bell.

Someone you had dated.

Someone who'd given you the key to his apartment.

He must've known-- he made no mention

of your name when he filed his report.

He had absolutely no clue as to your involvement.

When we told him a short while ago-- stunned.

You have a problem

with me, Captain?

Take it up with my union rep.

So, we visited your home this morning.

Um, would you care

to explain these?

Shoelace eyelets.

From a pair of Pergotti boots.

The same boots you used

to plant footprints that you knew would lead back

to Detective Bell.

You torched them in your garage, but those didn't burn.

Does the name Denny Vargas mean anything to you?

Should do-- you arrested him two months ago

in his home.

It was suspected that Vargas was maintaining

an arsenal of untraceable, unregistered firearms.

Strangely none of those firearms were seized

by you during the arrest.

Well, not officially anyway.

The assault on Detective Bell's car was done

with a modified MP5.

Bradshaw was killed with a Colt nine-millimeter.

And Andre Bell was shot

with an as yet undiscovered

.22 caliber pistol.

The lab ran tests, and the bullet profiles

for these attacks match several of the crimes

committed by Denny Vargas.

It's interesting, no?

You arrest him, his guns disappear.

Could it be, Officer Reyes,

that you are stockpiling your own personal armory

of untraceable guns?

Oh, why am I not surprised he's not here?

Bell.

He would never say anything like this to my face.

It's not his style.

Officer Paula Reyes was arrested this morning...

So even if she pleads out,

that'll be life, right?

Probably.

You remember Sharise?

Mm-hmm.

She cut the spokes on my bike

when we broke up in the seventh grade.

But that's the worst thing any of my exes tried to do to me.

Andre, about what I said the other day,

asking you if you, uh...

Don't.

You don't have to say anything.

No, I do.

I do. I'm sorry.

I, uh...

It's cool, Marcus.

It's cool, seriously.

I-I got to ask.

The note you left?

"Was not Marcus"?

You told me someone tried

to frame you for a shooting.

I-I don't know.

I just figured maybe

it was the same guy.

No, I know, but...

we-we fought yesterday.

You were shot in the back.

No way you saw who did it.

No way you could've known for sure it wasn't me.

But I did know.

I know you.

And you got to look out for family.

Even when they disappoint you.

You're rearranging the locks again.

You're doing it by...

date of manufacture,

earliest to latest. Yep.

Seems like the most sensible way to display them.

This week anyway.

I like to be paid on Thursdays.

And since I don't have an apartment

right now, I will stay here rent-free

until I find something else.

And you will continue going

to group support meetings with me

for as long as we work together.

Congratulations on your new career, Watson.

Just one more thing for this to work.

Yes, what's that?

Ow!

Could have been a knife.

== sync, corrected by elderman ==

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