All language subtitles for Elementary - 1x16 - Details.HDTV.lol.en

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 ==