All language subtitles for CSI.New.York.S07E11.720p.HDTV.x264

Not bad, not bad.

For my sixth birthday,

my old man got me
a pair of tube socks.

You scared the hell out of me.

What are you doing here?

The party doesn't start
for another hour.

No, no, no!

Maria, call the cops.

Gino!

Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Gino!

No! Gino!

Shooter's in a clown outfit.
He went in the alley.

We'll take the suspect.
Hey, stop!

Where's the victim?
In here, in the back, on the floor.

Freeze! NYPD!

Don't move! Freeze!

Put your hands on your head!

- Hands on your head!
- I didn't do anything.

Get down on the ground!
Down on the ground!

- On your knees! Now all the way down!
- I didn't do anything!

- You got a weapon on you?
- No!

Get your hands on your head!
You got him?

I pat you down,
I'm going to find a weapon?

- No.
- You got the gun on you?

- Frank.
- I got nothing.

What the hell? Frank.

Frank!

- Frank!
- What?!

Frank, what the hell
is going on?

All right, Buddy, you can
take a seat. Thank you.

Don't say anything.

It's just better
if you don't say anything.

- The victim's inside?
- The owner.

Gino Cressida.
It was his son's sixth birthday.

Witnesses say a clown
just walked in and wasted him.

And when you showed up,

the arresting officers
had these guys detained?

Yeah. Now, some of these
costumes are way off,

but more than half of them match
the description witnesses gave

of the shooter they saw
walk across the street

and disappear down the alley.

So one of these clowns
might actually be our killer.

sync by honeybunny - corrected by bellows
www.addic7ed.com

If you squirt me with that
thing, I will shoot you,

right here in front
of everybody,

- you understand me?
- All right.

- Talk.
- Look, it was posted online.

It said show up at the corner
of Sullivan and Davis

at exactly 11:00 wearing a clown
outfit, you get 500 bucks.

- 500 bucks?
- Yeah.

Just show up
and stand on the corner?

Nah, it said something
about distributing flyers.

Witnesses tell me you look
exactly like the clown

who walked into the bakery.

That's 'cause the ad
had a photo attached to it.

Said there was
an extra 50 in it

if you came
looking exactly like it.

Don't go anywhere;
I'm not done with you.

Hey, look, is there some kind
of stipend here for cooperating?

I mean, this outfit
put me back a hundred.

Sit down.

Hi, Flack.

Hey.

Who shoots

the owner of a bakery?

I mean, really!

And at his kid's birthday party?

Single gunshot wound
to the chest.

Shooter dropped the gun,
walked out the front door.

Sounds like a hit.

Did we get the name
of the clown

- he hired for the party?
- Wife said the Vic

took care of it.

We're looking into
phone records.

One of my guys
found these in a dumpster

five blocks from here.

Looks like we're rounding up
clowns out there

for no good reason.

Got to hand it to this guy...
Putting out that ad

so he could blend in
with the clowns?

Pretty smart.

What's our first move?

Leave the cannolis
and take the gun.

The bullet shattered
into multiple fragments,

so once Sid extracts them,

I'm gonna have
to reconstruct the bullet

and then run it through IBIS.

If it's that badly damaged,
we may not be able

- to get reliable stria to
make a comparison. - Yeah.

I'll do my best,

but it's definitely
gonna take a little time.

You download the CT
data of the wound path?

Yeah.

Then there's a faster way.

♪ Don't pull your pants
before I go down ♪

♪ don't turn away,
this is my time ♪

♪ don't make demands,
I don't take none ♪

♪ just say a prayer
that it goin' get done ♪

♪ go ahead, go way low ♪

♪ where I can do no harm ♪

♪ go ahead, go way low
in my honey lovin' arms ♪

♪ go ahead, go way low
where I can do no wrong ♪

♪ got you around my finger
like a lonely lover's charm. ♪

Wound tracks don't match up.

So that's not our murder weapon.

I don't get it...
Whose gun is it,

and why was it at the scene?

Well, it's possible the shooter
used a different gun,

then dropped this one
to put us off his track.

Mm. So, I'm still gonna need
to extract the fragments

and reconstruct the bullet.

That's a lot of fragments.

I imagine it is.

So, what do you say, you gonna
skip lunch, help me out?

Nope.

I get to be the boss this week.

I'm on it.

Hey, Mac.

So, our clown's shoes
were covered in dust.

They were found in a dumpster.

Yeah, but this was a very
particular mixture of dust.

Contained a significant
amount of carbon

and flecks of bone.

I extracted DNA;
It came back human, female.

Hmm. Looks consistent
with talc or ash.

It also contained concrete.

So, what do we have, a burned
body that was also buried?

Run DNA through
CODIS missing persons,

- see if there's a connection.
- All right.

You know what,
one more thing...

Do you wear sneakers
inside clown shoes?

Are you seriously asking
me that question?

What, no good? What the hell
do I know about clowns?

Look, I'm a bright man, Danny,

but I'm afraid I can't
help you with that one.

- Hey.
- Jo,

do you wear sneakers
inside clown shoes?

I don't know...
I don't own any.

- Clown shoes?
- Sneakers.

Danny, get out of here.

Get me some answers.

This case is getting
stranger by the second.

Trace I found on
our victim's shirt: Cyanide.

Our killer clown tried to poison
the vic before he shot him?

Virtually nothing's
adding up so far.

Clown, bakery owner,

mystery gun at
the crime scene, cyanide...

And Danny just found female DNA.

Hawkes, do you wear sneakers
inside clown shoes?

Don't you start.

How do you know
I'm calling from the crime lab?

I-I... do you not have
caller I.D., sir?

O... okay, well, listen,
perhaps my...

Fine. You got me, okay?

I work at the New York City
crime lab, but I moonlight

as a criminal specializing
in clown identity theft.

And my next caper, okay,
is gonna be to defraud

the entire clown industry
as jumbles the clown.

Hello?

You hung up on me.
You... you hung up on me.

I hate clowns.

He hung up on me.

- I see that.
- Yeah.

Who exactly hung up on you?

The New York clown registry.

All right. Start
from the beginning.

Okay.

The vic's phone records
could not tell me

who he hired as a clown
for the kid's birthday party.

Okay? So I went online,

to the ad the killer posted

and I scanned the photo,
ran an image search,

and I came up empty.
However,

I discovered that there's
a New York clown registry.

Like, they register
their faces, actually.

It's a trademark thing.

So we match the makeup
to the registered face,

- and we get an I.D.
- Yeah.

Okay. But Anal Mcgillicuddy,

he will not give me
this guy's information

until I get a subpoena, okay?

- So now I got to do all this...
- Adam. Adam.

Yeah.
Relax. Relax.

Okay. I'm relaxed.
I'm relaxed.

Lay off the caffeine.

I want to meet the guy who blows
the yolk out of these things.

I wonder what he does
on the weekend.

Do you not appreciate
the attention to detail

associated with this
kind of craftsmanship?

Yep.

There's a hole.

They put one at each end

and then they just suck the yolk
right out of those things.

Mama and aunt Evelyn

had it down to a science.

They would just paint
the most glorious eggs.

They were beautiful.

Okay. How cute is he?
Look at that hair.

This is our guy.

I wouldn't do that
if I were you.

Oh, I'm sorry. I was just
trying to see what...

Each individual egg

is meticulously hand-painted
to match the likeness

of our members.

A very
time-consuming process.

A process best
left undisturbed,

particularly by the oils
on your fingertips.

You don't walk into the MoMA

and poke the Picassos, do you?

Anal Mcgillicuddy.

I beg your pardon?

I believe you talked
to one of my employees.

Detective Mac Taylor.

New York crime lab.

Oh, yes. Wonderful.

I see you have all the charm
of your subordinate.

- And I see you have...
- Okay.

I think we have gotten off
on the wrong foot here.

Can we start over?

I am Detective Danville.

We're looking for...

Save it, Kentucky.

Adam Ross faxed
over the subpoena

five minutes ago.

I suppose he anticipated
your lack of persuasive skills.

You're not very nice

for someone who works
at a clown registry.

Not all clowns are happy.

The name and
the address of the man

that you're looking for
are in here.

Kindly show yourselves out
when you're done.

Stan Ridgeway.

1023 Sutton Avenue.

The last time we did this,
didn't really work out for us.

He's a clown, Flack.
He registered his face.

I'm just saying, the last time
we were in this position,

six bullets came
through the door.

I'm pretty sure he doesn't
keep his balloon gun loaded.

Why are you standing
off to the side, then?

I'm a little scared.

Stan Ridgeway? NYPD!

Three, two...

You okay?

Oh, God. You tell me.

Head's pounding like he split it
open with a cannon.

It's nothing that a band-aid
and a beer won't fix.

Did you get a good look
at the guy?

Uh, yeah.

Uh, dark hair, dark eyes,

clean-shaven.

Uh, jeans and a-a blue shirt.

That's kind of generic, Stan.

Anything about him stick out?

Yeah, the barrel of his gun.

He had it pointed
right between my eyes.

That door jamb
looks pretty solid.

So how did he get in?

Look, I opened the door, okay?

He said he had a delivery.

He needed a signature.

I got a delivery.

Somebody's got to sign.

Oh, my God. What the hell?

- Turn around. Down on your knees.
- Okay. Okay. Okay.

- Don't shoot.Don't shoot.
Don't shoot me! - Shut up!

Son of a bitch
even asked me how much

money I was gonna make today.

200 bucks or so.
250 with tip?

Just please don't kill me.

Please. No.

No. No. No! No!

When I came to, he was gone,

and so was my clown suit.

Look, he took my hair
and my nose, too.

I need those back.

Okay? They were specially made.

They're very expensive.

One of a kind.

All right.
We'll see what we can do.

In the meantime,
let's get you some ice.

Lunchtime.

That was fast.

Huh?

Mama, I'm not interested.

Because the last time you set me
up on a blind date,

I had to handcuff the guy
within 20 minutes.

- I do not have control issues.
- Jo!

Mama, I'm at work.
I have to call you back later.

Bye.

I got a hit in AFIS

on the prints that Danny
lifted from the makeup.

I think I found
our killer clown.

Bobby Renton.

Oh, I keep telling Mac he
needs to give you a raise,

and he won't listen to me.

Renton's only arrest
was a fare beat eight years ago?

Doesn't quite fit the profile
of a cold-blooded killer.

According to
the officer's report,

Renton lost his wallet,
had no money,

jumped the turnstile
at the subway station,

got arrested, and his prints
have just been on file

- ever since.
- And that's it?

No burglary, no assault?

Not even a public disturbance,
and he get up this morning,

dresses like a clown
and kills a man?

Gino Cressida's murder
was premeditated.

You don't just wake up one
morning and plan all that.

You're sure about
the match on AFIS?

Yeah. 15 points
of comparison.

Definitely Renton's print.

There was something else
that was odd.

Okay, he hasn't had
a license in five years.

Don't need one
in New York City.

Okay, but at the same time,

he got rid of his credit card,

moved from his
only known address

in Queens, quit his job,

and doesn't exist
in any database

where you could find
anything on anybody.

So I did a quick date check.

It's like he started to
disappear from his own life

all in the same day.

All in the same day?

All in the same day.

It's a possibility.

Thank you, Adam.

Did they contact you?

"They"?

The FBI.

We're expecting a call?

Well, they usually get
their panties in a wad

when we start getting
in their business.

And we've done that?

Well, AFIS got us
the match off of the print

that Danny recovered
from Stan Ridgeway's makeup.

The name is Bobby Renton.

He's gonna be tough
to track down,

'cause Bobby hasn't existed
for the past five years.

Well, if he was in jail,
there'd be a record of it.

If he was dead, there'd
be documentation.

But there's been no report
that he's missing.

So you think

he's part of the FBI's
Witness Protection program.

Exactly.

'Cause I... know the FBI.

And I also know

this overconfident agent

who just got off the elevator.

He's right over there.

Overconfident?

What, you worked together?

Slept together.

My ex-husband.

You're leaving?

Oh, yeah.

I'm sure you're aware,
Detective,

that our system alerts the FBI

to any inquiries made about
our protected cooperatives.

Your lab's AFIS hit
was flagged.

So you want to tell me what your
interest in Bobby Renton is?

We're looking for him.

Well, he's a protected witness

in a secure location

outside of the state
of New York.

Agent Josephson,

we believe he's back
in New York.

In fact, he's in Manhattan,

and he's a prime suspect
in a murder investigation.

You seem pretty sure
about that.

We connected his prints
to the crime.

Well, maybe you want
to run those prints

a second time, Detective.
Double check.

You think we got this wrong?

Murder is definitely not
in Bobby Renton's wheelhouse.

So, yeah, I think you got
the wrong guy.

I imagine it'd be embarrassing
for the bureau

to find out a witness wasn't
where he was supposed to be,

living unprotected,

or worse, involved in a crime

the NYPD knows more about

than the FBI.

Trust me, this is not about
the bureau's ego.

In fact, his protection
was a request from the NYPD.

He's an informant for you guys,
not us.

This was a favor

for Detective Don Flack.

Bobby Renton?

You sure about that?

Danny recovered his print from
Stan Ridgeway's apartment.

So that puts him
in Stan's place,

but it doesn't
make him a killer.

He took Ridgeway's
clothes, Don,

dressed as a clown

and killed Gino Cressida.

Let's bring Stan in.

See if he can pick Bobby
out of a six-pack.

I'm missing something here.

You, the FBI... nobody buys
this guy as a killer,

but the evidence
points right at him.

Bobby was a good guy, Mac.

He wasn't some thug who flipped
to try to make a deal

and get a government-paid
ticket out of Queens.

He testified against
three PCP dealers

who put a bullet
in his friend's head.

He was a decent guy.
Did the right thing.

And now you're
telling me he's back

and he's a killer?

That's the way it looks, Don.

These guys are gonna
come after me, you know that.

We'll protect you.

How?

I got friends in the FBI.

They'll set you up.

Witness Protection?

No, man, I'm not gonna
get involved in all that.

I told you who did it.
That's all you need.

No, no, no. We need
a witness, Bobby.

That's you.

What about Ainsley?

We'll protect her, too.

Bobby,

drug dealers like
the Foleys don't stop

unless they're made to stop.

You saw them walk him out
of the bar that night.

They killed your friend, and
they're laughing about it.

Don't let them
get away with that.

I don't know.
I just don't know.

Yes, you do.

Yes, you do.

I got to go.

- Listen, Bobby...
- I got to go.

Bobby!

I saw you run out.

I had work to do.

You've been avoiding
my phone calls.

I've been busy, Russ.

And we've exchanged
at least five text messages

over the last eight months.

I think that's plenty.

Jo, do you realize
this is the first time

I've seen you since you
moved to New York?

That's not true.

I saw you at Tyler's.

Yeah, you saw me,

and I saw the back of your
head as you left the room.

What?

You look great.

What was the reason
we separated?

Divorced.

Because you wanted me

to be a housewife,
and I wanted a career.

We're completely incompatible.

You know what?
My first clue should have been

you insisted
I take your last name.

Jo Josephson. Please.

I just wanted the guys
to know you were mine.

Another problem...
Ownership issues.

If I say you're right

and I'm sorry,
will you have dinner with me?

No.

You didn't have to come
all the way over here

to deliver that
message to Mac.

You could have just called.

But then I wouldn't
get to see you.

Jo, the bullet fragments
are a match...

- Sorry. I'll come back.
- No, no, no.

We're all good.
He's an FBI Agent.

Lindsay,

ex-husband.
Ex-husband, Lindsay.

Nice to meet you.

- You, too.
- We've heard

nothing... about you.

Bullet fragments.

Uh, yeah.

Uh, 3-D software reassembled
the bullet fragments

that we pulled
from Gino Cressida.

I was able to...

realign the striae.

I got a match to a bullet

that was pulled from a man
killed two days ago in Memphis.

So the same gun was
used to kill both men.

And possibly the same shooter.

Bobby Renton was in

Witness Protection in Memphis.

Crime scene photos
of Elmo Vidivic

and the preliminary autopsy
report from Memphis PD indicate

three gunshot wounds.

One to each knee,
and one to the chest.

The latter being
the cause of death.

Laceration, multiple
bruising to the face.

Vidivic was tortured.

Who sent you
here to kill me?

Nobody sent me.

Try again.

You didn't come to
Memphis to sightsee.

Okay. All right.

It was Gino Cressida.

Renton was clearly
looking for the name

of the man who
arranged the hit.

Gino Cressida.

Does that make
sense to anyone?

Why would a baker who
makes the best cannoli

in New York want
to kill Bobby Renton?

There's no intel on Cressida

in our files, no apparent

connection to this case
or the suspects

Bobby Renton testified against
five years ago.

Cressida's background's clean.

Husband, father.

Owns the family bakery which
he inherited from his mother.

Maybe Bobby Renton
got the name wrong,

or Vidivic gave him any
name he could think of.

You don't kill two men

the way Renton did
without being sure.

I still can't believe he did it.

Yeah.

Russ, was Bobby cooperating

on any other cases that
were still going to trial?

Not with us.

He disappeared into
Witness Protection.

That was the last the
NYPD heard of him. Yeah.

Well, somebody
wanted Renton dead.

His identity and location
were compromised,

and a professional was sent

all the way to Memphis
to take care of him.

We're missing a
connection here.

We got every resource
the commissioner

would authorize looking

for Bobby Renton.
No sign of him.

So he's fled the city.

Only if he's walking.

We got eyes on the piers,
the bus terminals,

the airports,
train stations.

Not to mention checkpoints

on every major road
out of the city.

If taking out Gino Cressida
was the reason he returned

to New York, then Bobby's
done the job he came to do.

Why is he still here?

'Cause he still has
unfinished business.

So what happens now?

Do I get to pick
my new name?

Choose where
I'm gonna live?

When do I stop being me?

Day after tomorrow.

The FBI will put you up in
a safe house until then.

You can't go home.

I'll swing by and grab some of
your stuff and bring Ainsley

to wherever you're...

You didn't tell her?

What for?

That's your girl, man.

Come on. You got
to tell her.

Why? So I can ruin
her life, too?

Make her move away from
her family and friends?

She's five months
pregnant, Flack.

I can't do that.

I chose to do this, not her.

So you're not even
gonna say good-bye?

It's easier this way.

No.

If they come after me,
then so be it.

But if she came, and they
hurt her and my kid?

I couldn't live with that.

I know your head is
probably spinning,

but believe me,

you did the right thing.

Can you do me a favor?

Tell Ainsley I...

Never mind.
Let's... let's get out of here.

Hey, Mac, just
received the tox report

on our victim in Memphis.

Traces of ether were found
in Elmo Vidivic's lungs.

Now, at our crime scene
here in New York,

I found cyanide on Gino
Cressida's clothing.

Cyanide and ether.
That's PCP.

Yeah, it could prove
that they knew each other,

were together or something.

Now, Renton testified
against the Foley brothers.

They dealt PCP, right?

Well, that's a leap, Sheldon.

There are a lot of uses
for cyanide and ether,

and we have no definitive proof

that either one of these
men were in the same place

at the same time
prior to their deaths.

Thought you might say that.

Which means you came
here with an answer?

I ran a utility usage check
on Gino Cressida's bakery.

Wattage was off the charts.

Compared to similar
structures in the area,

their kilowatt hours show
50 times more usage.

Mac, I know it's a bakery, but

they ain't baking
that many bagels.

Cressida's is a front
for a PCP lab.

Cressida was supplying
the Foley brothers.

I was hoping
you'd walk me out.

Leaving so soon?

Yeah, the FBI's
work is done here.

We have no jurisdiction over
the murder investigation.

Leaving the hard
part to the NYPD?

And I thought our
separation was amicable.

Divorce.

Hey, Mac seems
like a nice guy.

He is.

Any reason I
should be jealous?

Ugh.

Oh, baby, I love that.

We're gonna hang
it on the fridge

right when we get home.

Hmm.

More coffee?

- Thank you.
- Sure.

What can I get you?

Has Bobby gotten
in touch with you?

We have a special
on the pastrami.

We're all out
of apple pie.

And I highly recommend
the fish and chips.

Oh, come on, Ainsley.

Don't play games with me.

He's in trouble.

Do you want something
to eat or no?

What kind of trouble?

Have you seen him?

No. If you have,
you got to tell me.

I said, no.

Manny, I'm on break!

Yeah, go ahead.

So, Bobby's back
in New York?

Looks that way.

He okay?

No.

He's not hurt.

He's just done
something stupid.

Really stupid.

Look, he may
come to see you.

If he does, please call me?

You got a lot of nerve,
you know that?

- Listen to me.
- Listen to you?

What, are you kidding me?

Listen to you.
That's what got us

in this mess
in the first place.

You convincing Bobby
to snitch on those guys.

He trusted you.

We both did.

I am never gonna be
that stupid again.

Take your card.
I'm not helping you.

And you know what? If Bobby
does call me, you will be

the absolute last
person I tell.

He left to protect you.

Yeah, well,
you got what you wanted.

So what's it matter, huh?

I'm sorry.

Baby, I'll be

right over by the
counter if you need me.

Order's up.
Chicken and waffles.

I knew there had to be
a deeper connection.

What do you got?
Connection between who?

Gino Cressida
and the Foley brothers.

He was supplying them
with PCP, right?

Clearly looks that way.

But to hire a hit
man to hunt down

Bobby Renton, there had to be
a more personal connection.

Gino Cressida is the godfather
of one of the Foley brothers.

That's more than enough motive.

So somebody must have
spotted Bobby in Memphis.

Cressida got word and
sent Vidivic to kill him.

Revenge for his
godson's conviction.

Looks that way.

Either of you hear from
Flack since this afternoon?

- No.
- No.

I've left a few messages.

This case is personal for him.

That's what
I'm afraid of.

Yes, yes, yes!

EDNA, I love you.

Is there another woman

in your life?

This is the magnification
of the dust

collected from the clown's
clothes and Stan's apartment.

And on the other side
is a match from EDNA.

I had female bone,
ash and concrete,

and I couldn't
put it all together.

Until EDNA came
to your rescue.

Don't be jealous.
I was thinking we were looking

at the remains of a burned body,
another one of Renton's victims,

but the degree of thermal
destruction was so great

that it would take a
significant amount of heat.

High heat, bone, ash...
Cremation.

Yeah, exactly.

I thought you said there
were traces of concrete.

There used to
be a crematorium

that offers a
burial at sea, okay?

They mix your remains
with concrete

and lower them
into the ocean

to promote coral
reef growth.

Okay, so how
did the ash

and the concrete
transfer to Renton?

He must have picked up the ash
in the abandoned crematorium...

...And transferred it
to the clown suit.

The crematorium
was in Brooklyn.

It's been closed
for six years.

It's got to be where
Renton's hiding out.

We need to let Mac
know, and send units.

Bobby?!

It's Flack. I'm here.

Bobby, come on.
I got your signal.

You brought me
all the way out here.

Bobby?

Glad you could
make it, Don.

Put the gun down, Bobby.

I'm already facing
life in prison, man.

Killing a cop?

What's that, double life?

Hey, back up, man.

Back up.

You don't want
to do this, Bobby.

Yeah, I didn't want to testify,
either... you remember that?

What was it you said?

Oh, "be a hero, Bobby.

Do the right thing."

What did that get me, huh?

You made promises you
couldn't keep, Flack.

Come on, lower the gun.

Take another step, man,
I'll kill you.

You know the
worst part, Flack?

What's that?

28 years I lived
in that neighborhood

and I managed to
stay out of trouble.

One conversation with you, and
I get shipped off to Memphis.

Can't even get a
decent slice of pizza.

You saved lives, Bobby.

You know that.

But I lost mine!

It wasn't worth it, man.

Every day looking
over my shoulder,

wondering when
they'd come.

And they did;
They did come.

So I had to end it.

I've never even laid
eyes on my own son.

Protection?

No, this might as
well have been jail.

This is what happens
when you do what's right?

Yeah.

Thieves get rich.

Saints get shot.

And God doesn't always
answer your prayers.

So instead of thinking
about what's owed you...

Think about
your little boy.

Think about Ainsley.

You can still
have a life, Bobby.

You shot a hit man and the
guy who sent him after you.

There's a real chance you
could still get out of jail

and be a father
to your son.

If you pull that trigger...

That does not happen.

Don't do this.

Bobby!

Bobby, stop!
Come on!

Bobby!

It's over, Bobby.

You were MIA
for a while there.

Yeah. I needed a little time
to wrestle with the demons.

You okay?

Five years ago when Bobby
flipped on those guys,

I got a big pat on the
back, felt really good.

It does not feel
really good right now.

Well, it's tough
asking a witness

to testify, and especially
in a case like that.

But we do more than ask.

We're taught to persuade, right?

Get the bad guy off the
street, close the case.

You get caught up in that,
and it's easy to lose sight

of the sacrifices that
some people have to make.

It's a necessary evil, Don.

Without witnesses being
brave enough to testify,

where would we be?

And for what it's worth,

you didn't talk
Renton into testifying...

Deep down... he knew
what he had to do.

Listen, I'm gonna take him over
to central booking myself.

Sure.

Thank you.

I got him, guys.

Thanks. Let's go.

What do I do now?

Go ahead.

Ten minutes.

sync by honeybunny - corrected by bellows
www.addic7ed.com