All language subtitles for Homicide - Life On The Street - 3.15 - Law And Disorder - (316 - February 24_ 1995) - DVDR

Train number 176
now arriving at Track 6AE.

Train number 176 now arriving
at Track 6AE.

Detective Frank Pembleton?
Mike Logan, NYPD.

This is your prisoner. R Vincent Smith.

- When you show up, I have to be here?
- You're on the clock same as me.

- What's the difference?
- Typical Big Apple attitude.

Anyway... Mr Smith here
has agreed to waive extradition

on a fugitive warrant
for second-degree murder.

So they call this Charm City, huh?

Like something out of a box
of Crackerjacks.

Who'd want to stay here?

Plenty of New Yorkers ran down here.
Dorothy Parker, for example.

- Dorothy who?
- Parker, you illiterate.

The wittiest woman in America.
The toast of Manhattan.

She dies, she's cremated,
her ashes sit in a jar for 20 years -

20 years! While all the New York
sophisticates hem and haw,

"What'll we do with Dorothy's ashes?"
Where does she end up?

- Baltimore!
- I got two words for you guys.

Babe Ruth. The Babe.

King of Swing. Sultan of Swat.

Born right here in Baltimore, but where
does he go for fame and fortune?

- New York City.
- Edgar Allan Poe.

He hated New York so much
he came down to Baltimore to die.

That's what New York does to its poets.

What did he die of? Local crab cakes?

Enjoy your stay, Shakespeare.

Hey, Pembleton!

You're going to jail for this murder,

but be thankful it's not in New York.

Why do you think
I didn't fight extradition?

I may be guilty, but I'm no fool.

Pratt shoots our guys, we don't have
enough to hold him, he walks out.

Two hours later he's found lying dead
with one shot to the forehead.

Badda-bing! Suicide!

- Pratt wouldn't have the guts.
- He was shot at very close range.

Bullet came from a 9mm Glock,
standard police issue.

- Plenty of Glocks on the streets.
- He shoots three of our detectives.

A cop's a likely suspect.

I get there and I'm all alone.

No uniform came.
I had to request back-up.

The dispatcher put out the call.
Not one cop responded.

- Go figure.
- Important things happening elsewhere.

Either that or Pratt was the victim
of a robbery gone sour.

No, he had his wallet. He had ten bucks,
driver's licence, old parking ticket.

DMV never forgets, Tim.

Give whoever killed Pratt credit
for saving the taxpayers' money.

How's that, Frank?

There's no trial
on the outstanding warrant.

His death demonstrates
his tireless love of country.

What's the news from the hospital?

Stan's second operation was OK.

Doctor says, "give it time."
He still doesn't know who I am.

Kay's good, but cranky. Bored.

Everything's getting back to normal.

- Is that all you've got, Bayliss?
- No, no.

Pratt fell near a payphone.
It was off the hook.

- I'm tracing calls.
- You're ahead of the game.

- I don't see it that way.
- Homicide.

- You know everyone he knows.
- Meldrick, you free?

- Gee, I'm taking Lewis.
- Fine.

- Hold on, Frank! I need back-up.
- I just got a call, Tim.

Meldrick!

- I shouldn't go solo on this.
- Bayliss, you can handle it.

Munch?

How's that pain in your shoulder?

I'm not gonna lie and say there's no pain,
but I'm OK. I'm taking aspirin.

- How are you sleeping?
- Like a baby.

- You're making good progress in rehab.
- See? I'm strong. I'm fit.

- I'm ready.
- Physically. Mentally, I'm not so sure.

Post-traumatic stress
doesn't manifest right away.

- You don't think Beau's ready?
- We should air on the side of caution.

- A little more rest won't hurt.
- I've done nothing but rest.

I need to get back to work.

Into the homicide routine.

Who could know better than me?

You'll be on light duty
until further notice.

Phones. Paperwork.

Cold cases. Understand?

I'll even make coffee.

Thanks, Doc.

Mrs Burns, you knew the woman
who got shot?

She's my neighbour. Jean Battisto.

Can you tell us what happened?

I was loading groceries into my car.

I looked up and she was lying
on the ground,

surrounded by blood.

- She just fell down?
- That's right.

- Did you hear a gunshot?
- I didn't hear anything!

Those bastards!

They're always running around
shooting each other.

Which bastards are you referring to?

The other side of Fulton.

Those kids hang out selling drugs,
shooting each other.

This side of Fulton's
supposed to be safe.

We don't have black kids
running around shooting guns!

I'm sorry, but it's true.
This was a nice, decent neighbourhood.

Those kids in the projects,
they killed her.

Mrs Burns, we don't know
where that bullet came from.

I know exactly where it came from.

You can seat yourself.

- Were you working yesterday morning?
- Yes. You lose an umbrella?

No, I'm a homicide detective.

You're here about Gordon Pratt.

He made a call to this number yesterday

before 8:00am from a payphone.

He didn't shoot anyone and you know it.
That's why you let him go.

- He won't be coming in any more.
- He won't?

No. He died.

Oh, no! Mr Pratt's dead?

- How? What happened?
- I'm trying to figure it out.

Do you remember
what he said when he called?

One of you cops shot him, didn't you?

Couldn't believe he might be innocent.

Was he in any way agitated
or scared?

No. Why would he be?

Anything you remember could help us.

"You're the greatest, Mrs King.
See you soon."

That was the last thing he said.

He waited for me to hang up first.

He always did that. He was sweet.

OK. Thank you.

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

- Can I make some calls for you?
- No, thanks.

- Sure?
- Very.

OK.

Two packets, Beau! This tastes
like Early Grey's sweat socks.

Look how light it is. Come on, man.
If you're going to make it, make it.

I got it! I got it!

Felton, Homicide.

Yeah, shoot. Er... wait.

Thanks. OK, go ahead.

OK. Great. Thanks.

Hey, Judy!

Your son called. He says that he...
he needs the car tonight.

Well, he's not getting it. Thanks.

Beau? Pen.

Hey, partner. How you doing?
Yeah. Back in the nut house.

No. You rest up.
I'll come by and see you later.

OK. All right. Bye.

The bullet entered the skull
behind her left ear

and travelled straight down
through the left hemisphere,

and lodged in the jawbone.

Entered from above?

The velocity of the bullet
had begun to slow.

There's no powder residue.

- Entrance wound is clean.
- So where did she get shot from?

The Goodyear Blimp?

.40 calibre round. Fired at an angle.

Shooter could have been anywhere
within a 200-, 300-, 400-yard radius.

- We got a long search ahead of us.
- Not according to Mrs Burns.

Just go over to the Washington Village
projects and say, "Eeny, miny, moe."

- She's got a point.
- Really?

What's that supposed to mean?

Statistically speaking,
there's a strong likelihood of that.

That don't mean
this bullet came from there.

Let's see what ballistics say.

- It's you!
- Do I know you?

If I said something to you
in a bar one night,

no harm was intended.

Wait till I tell Brigitta!

Drummond went back to Bomb Squad.
Walker to Sex Crimes. You need me.

- Don't flatter yourself.
- You know I'm right.

- How's physical therapy?
- A breeze. I gotta get back out there.

- I feel like I'm benched.
- You're not.

Let me ride shotgun, then.

- You can't even walk.
- That's not funny, Gee. Not funny.

I can disprove that theory. The doctors
make me carry these stupid crutches.

- See?
- Gee? Hey, Beau.

I got a call about a stabbing.
No one here to take it.

- You're here.
- I'm going to interview Mrs Wasserman.

She lives in Pratt's building.
He got shot at her door.

Maybe she heard something.

Gee, coincidence? I think not.
Let me handle this one.

No. I'll take it, but you can come along.

- Get your crutches.
- I'm getting them.

- Come on!
- I'm coming!

Six lines and grooves with a left twist.

Weighs in at 180 grains.
.40 calibre.

You're looking for a Smith and Wesson.

- Could you be more specific?
- More specific?

Like the shooter's name and address.

Yeah!

- Thanks, Wes.
- Sure.

The ME says Battisto
was hit from above.

The shot was fired from several
hundred yards. It was a.40 S&W.

So we hit the street, we ask around,
see who saw what.

Find S&W owners in the neighbourhood.

You ain't got to register no handgun.

If you bought it in state, it'll show up.

For every one that shows up,
two dozen don't.

That's not the way we catch culprits.
Not off some damn list.

Well, we'll start with the projects.

Why not start where the white folks live?

- That's not logical.
- Not logical?

We'll do the east side
after we've done the projects.

Know what it sounds to me like?

You're buying that
if a white person is dead,

a black hand pulled the trigger.

Come on, look at me.
I'm not black. I'm not white.

I'm just a plain, old homicide detective.

What I'm doing right now...
Thank you.

I'm using my experience,

my knowledge, my instincts

to bring down whoever killed
Mrs Battisto.

If you don't like that,
please, please, please,

go get yourself another partner.

Nah, I'm not gonna do that.

Gee's already telling me
I can't work with nobody.

You're stuck with me, brother.

You're using too much caffeine.
That's your problem.

The victim's identified as Lester Norris.

He and his pal had a disagreement.

- Something about a Pig Six ticket.
- Where's the weapon?

- He tossed the knife in the drain.
- You're doing good.

- Is the ME here?
- He's waiting for you.

- You OK?
- Yeah.

- What have you got?
- Detective Felton. Welcome back.

Hello, Lieutenant.

Multiple stab wounds.
Massive blood loss.

Roll him.

Victim has multiple lacerations
on his cheeks and forehead.

Looks like somebody played
tick-tack-toe on his face.

- Hey, took your vacation yet?
- Sure did. Cancun.

- Wild. Non-stop "name your poison."
- I'll have to check it out.

Beau, go chat with those kids.
Find out who saw what.

Hasta luego, Officer.

Hello.

Come on! I had an apple in here.

- Did one of you guys eat my apple?
- Morning, Tim!

- Hi, John.
- Made an arrest in that Pratt case?

No, I haven't, Frank.

Talked to Pratt's neighbours.
Talked to the mailman.

Talked to the block homeless woman.

Talked to Dispatch.

I listened to the 911 tapes.

Now I'll have to do is interview
the cops who were on duty.

And then what I'll do after that

is interview the thousands of cops
who were off duty at the time!

Just narrow it down.

- That's a good idea.
- Got a better one? Don't hold it back.

I was here at the time
when the call came in, which I took.

Where were you?

Climbing into the bed of a poker player.
A female poker player.

A warm bed.

I've been playing a lot of poker recently,
Timmy.

Try it. It's a good way to meet women.

I went to the Crown station
near Johns Hopkins

for some... oooh, gasoline.

John?

We're talking about yesterday morning?
Let's see. I went to visit Stan.

I had to break curfew and sneak in.

And then I went to... Ikaros.

Nothing like spanakopita
and ginger ale to kick off your day.

Gee?

- I want off the Pratt case.
- No.

The neighbours didn't hear anything.
Mrs Wasserman was walking her terrier.

Whoever shot Pratt knew
what I'd be looking for and left me zip.

There is nothing.
No evidence, witnesses, nothing!

Meldrick was home asleep.

Felton went to therapy then he went
home. Walker was in DC.

Drummond had the grandkids.
Pembleton was here.

Bolander and Howard
aren't allowed to leave hospital and...

- Munch was out having breakfast.
- Follow up on the alibis.

You really want me to investigate
my fellow officers, my friends?

Bayliss, just do the job.

I don't wanna close this case,
or know where this is going, Gee.

You don't want to.

OK.

OK.

Tell me this one thing. Out of
all the detectives in this unit, why me?

Let's face it. You're just not a lucky guy.

Oh.

Who's next?

Er... Myra Whittaker.

She bought a Smith and Wesson

from Carter's Gun and Ammo in 1982.

She probably goes on drive-by shootings
after afternoon tea.

- You looking for me?
- Myra Whittaker?

- How did you know?
- We're police officers, ma'am.

Well, I guess you'd better come in.

Mrs Whittaker,
do you own a Smith and Wesson?

I can't live like this any more.

- Live like what?
- With the guilt.

Ah.

Mm-hm.

.40 calibre rounds.

- Have you fired this gun recently?
- That's why you're here, isn't it?

- Can't get nothing by you.
- We'll have to take this gun.

Don't you want to see the body first?

What body?

I didn't mean to shoot him.

Well... yes, I did.

- Shoot who?
- Theodore Archer.

- Of course.
- We were dating.

- Then what happened?
- He came for lunch a day and a half ago.

I made him a brisket sandwich.
He really enjoyed my brisket.

We were having a lovely time.
Everything was going so well.

- So you shot him?
- It was his fault.

- How's that?
- He was going to the movies with Eva.

- Eva?
- My sister.

So you shot him because he went
to the movies with your sister?

I guess you could say
it was a crime of passion.

Would you boys like to stay for supper?

It'll take no time at all
to defrost this brisket.

No.

See you later.

You all right?

- Yeah.
- You're sure?

It's the throbbing in my shoulder.

I don't mean your shoulder.
Going on that murder case was tough.

- Gee, I don't need this crap right now.
- Listen to me.

Just back off! Back off!

Felton, throw another can in my direction,

and I'll break your arm.

Sorry.

- I'm sick of covering for you.
- What?

Your marriage has been falling apart
since before we remember.

You come to work looking
as if you crawled through every bar.

This is my first day back.
I'm up for the job.

You weren't up to the job
BEFORE you got shot. That's my point.

That's the truth. It's time someone
told you. Two weeks at your desk.

When you're ready to come back,
be all the way back.

- Understand what I'm saying, Felton?
- Yes, sir.

- Lewis, you found the shooter?
- Well, not THE shooter.

We found a shooter. Shot her boyfriend,
stuffed his carcass in the freezer.

When you've finished basking
in the afterglow,

tell me about the Battisto case.

It's moving on, slowly, but surely.
Frank is on top of things.

I need a partner who doesn't whine,
but that's just detail.

In my office.
Working well together, are we?

Don't let me have to ask twice. Frank?

We're working well together, yes.

Yeah, I'm right by his side.

- I'm his faithful Tonto. That's me.
- Catch me up.

We ran a check by zip code
of every resident

with a legally purchased handgun
or a weapons violation.

What are the odds it was legal, Frank?

It is a process of elimination.

- I'm biased?
- Am I the primary here or what?

Listen to me! Your puffed-up egos
are making me sick.

You're supposed to be helping
each other.

That's the whole point of having
a partner. Remember?

What I want you to do -
whether you get along together or not -

is just close the case.

- OK.
- Close the case.

Close the chase, close the case.

- I think I get it.
- Close the case, close the case.

- You want a beer?
- I don't know. Do you? It's still light.

We'll split a pint.

Good. Can't do any harm, right?

Help me out on the Pratt murder.

Conflict of interest 104.

Never get in a homicide investigation
of someone who tried to kill you.

That makes sense.

You know, John,
I was at Ikaros earlier today.

And I was talking to these two waitresses
who were working yesterday.

- No one remembers ever seeing you.
- No kidding?

Well, maybe it was Zorba's
or the Aegean.

I could have been driving around
in a regressive purple haze.

There's documented cases of that.

Yeah... Did you have breakfast or not?

You want my gun, Detective?
I carry a Glock, just like you.

Wanna check if it was fired recently?
Huh? Go ahead.

- I got to make a phone call.
- Yeah.

Well, at least we put down
a stray murder.

Meldrick, we stumbled upon it.

Have you got the list of owners
of Smith and Wessons in Union Square?

This system's down. We have to wait.

It's gonna be a pretty short list.

People of the white persuasion

aren't as partial to guns as you and I are.

You can't admit that maybe I'm right.

Well, you aren't right yet, Meldrick.

At least we're conducting
an equal opportunities search.

Let me know when you're back online.

You ought to be ashamed of yourself.

Way to go, big boy!

Hey, Munch!

I gotta hand it to you, baby.
You got some nerve on you.

- Will you autograph this?
- What are you talking about?

Put the date on.
It might be valuable in the future.

- What is going on?!
- You don't know?

- No, I don't.
- You ain't been across the street?

No. Is there something I should know?

Take a look at the photo exhibit
in the gallery.

Go right in the back. Up against the...

You'll know what I'm talking about.

I would never have the nerve to do that.

I thought you was all talk.
You big fella!

Munchkin - can't call you that any more!

Hi, there. Pretty cool, huh?

- Where did this come from?
- Brigitta.

- Brigitta who?
- Don't you play sly with me.

- Brigitta Svendsen.
- Blonde, statuesque, peevish?

- That's the one.
- Where is she?

She'll be here tonight.

- We're having a reception.
- I'll be back.

Will you be coming as you are
or as you once were?

My dingle is blowing in the wind!

- I saw.
- You saw?

- Why do you think I was smiling?
- You're not smiling.

I thought I was.

You're being much too sensitive.

It was your choice
to make a public display.

I was a different person then.
People are laughing at me.

All I have is my credibility.

With that, how can anybody respect me?

You're providing an example
to your younger colleagues.

An example?

For every indiscretion, you will pay.

- Can I get you something, Stan?
- This food is killing me.

I'll sneak something in to you.

- I doubt it.
- What do you mean?

- I mean you'd get caught!
- I wouldn't get...

- Do you know me?
- Munch, you idiot!

You said my name! Munch!
Your memory's back! That's great.

Yeah, my memory's back. God help me.

- Margie, what did they say?
- I found the doctor.

Your CAT scan shows the swelling
went down around the frontal lobe.

- That caused the memory loss.
- The old Stan's back.

So I think it's time for me to head home
to Santa Barbara.

- Munch.
- What?

- Get out!
- What?

My ex-wife and I would like
to say our goodbyes privately.

Sure. Sure, I understand.
I'll see you outside. Welcome back.

- Margie, I...
- Stan...

Can you sit for a minute?

- You're going to be OK.
- I'll be fine.

- I could stay for a few more days.
- You've got a life. I'm glad you came.

Last night I was lying here
trying to remember something.

Anything.

You never did have a good memory.
It didn't take a bullet.

Yeah, well, er...

I tried to remember the name of the
bucktoothed kid in third grade. Uh-uh.

I didn't remember my street.

I couldn't think of who starred
in "Have Gun Will Travel."

But I remembered you.

- Me?
- Yeah.

Standing at the bus stop
on a windy day.

You had on a scarf.
It had little dogs on it.

And that blue pea coat.

Dark navy with gold buttons on it.

I remember thinking you were the most...

...beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

Standing there, shivering,
in that navy pea coat.

That was the day we met.

The harder I tried, the worse it got.

There I was. What's my name? Uh-uh.

What happened to me?

But I could see you.

You were, boy, plain as day.

Like a photograph.

In that navy pea coat.
You still got that coat?

- Not for years.
- No? What happened to it?

I don't know.

I probably gave it to the Salvation Army
10, 15 years ago.

A coat like that,
you'd think it would last for ever.

- I guess you've got to be going, huh?
- Yeah.

You call me.
Let me know how you're doing.

Sure.

Bye, Stanley.

Goodbye.

- Frank.
- Yeah?

- Gordon Pratt's a bad guy, right?
- Mm-hm.

No one's losing any sleep over this.

Only you.
Because you think one of us shot him.

- Don't you?
- It doesn't matter what I think.

On Gordon Pratt I have no opinion.

He was driven in his own perverted mind
to make the world a better place

for losers like himself.

Made his poison
more dangerous than most.

If this was your case,
you'd be thorough.

- Ah...
- No, you would.

You'd do your job no matter what.

But, you see, I keep thinking about

what happened to Edina Watson.

The murderer lives day to day
while she rots in Greenmont cemetery.

Or that Wilges woman kills eight people,

but is happily whiling away her time
with the other loonies.

- Doesn't seem fair, does it?
- No. But who am I to say?

I'm not God.

I mean,
we could go about seeking revenge,

and if we're smart
we're not ever going to get caught.

But that makes us like terrorists,
making up our own rules.

What's the difference?

What's the difference?

We're the good guys.

Right.

- Oh!
- What?

We've been to 20 houses. Nothing.

We didn't find the shooter
in the projects, did we?

- Who's next on the list?
- Er... Rafferty, Quentin.

- Quentin Rafferty.
- What's his first name?

Quentin Rafferty. He bought
a Smith and Wesson in November.

- Can I help you?
- Quentin Rafferty?

- Yes.
- Detectives Pembleton and Lewis.

We're investigating the murder
of Jean Battisto.

- Come on in.
- Thanks.

No, thank you.

These detectives are here about Jean.

I was just making some meatloaf

to bring over to her family.

- Did you find who killed her?
- No, ma'am, not yet.

We're talking to people who have the
same type of weapon that was used.

We have a computer file that tells us

that there is a Smith and Wesson here.

Do you own a Smith and Wesson?

Yes, I do. A man
has to protect his family, doesn't he?

I keep the gun locked up.

It's supposed to be here.
I keep it locked in this drawer.

- What do you mean it's not there?
- It's not here! The drawer is empty.

- Then where the hell is it, then?
- Have any children?

- Robin? Come here, sweetheart.
- We're making a space station, Daddy.

Good.

Robin, these people are trying to
figure out what happened to Mrs Battisto.

- She got killed.
- I know, sweetheart.

You know the desk downstairs
in the living room?

- I had something in the drawer. It's gone.
- I know what was in the drawer.

- It was a gun.
- Did you touch that gun, Robin?

- You won't be mad?
- No, sweetheart.

I just want to know where you put it.

Under my pillow.
I was gonna put it back.

I just wanted to show Billy.

Never touch this gun again. Ever!

- Understand?
- I'm sorry. I was very, very careful.

Robin, did you shoot this gun?

I didn't know there were
any bullets in it, but I was careful.

I pointed it up to the sky, just in case.

I'm sorry, Mommy.
It was an accident. I'm sorry!

We hear gunfire all the time around here.

The bullet didn't have to come
from my gun!

- John!
- I never thought I'd see you again.

- So? Happy?
- No. You're embarrassing me.

How?

Don't you think it would be nice
if you had asked my permission?

- For what?
- To have me naked in front of the world.

My reputation is ruined.
I'm a homicide detective across there.

- This is about revenge, isn't it?
- Revenge?

I prefer to think of it as...
artistic justice.

We never had a future.
We talked about this 25 years ago.

We never really finished our talk, John.

You left in the middle of the night.

Well... I'm appealing to your warm side.

To your heart.

You have the biggest heart
of anybody I know.

Well, you broke that heart.

I cried for two straight years.

Look, how can I make this right for you?

Are you available for dinner tonight?

I'd rather shoot my dog.

What a lovely sentiment.
And justified, too, I might add.

But is there something we can do?
Is there no kindness left?

- No sense of forgiveness?
- What do you want me to do?

I want you to do...

...what's ever in your heart.

I forgive you, John.

- Thank you.
- It was nothing.

Hey, Stanley! How are you doin'?

Can't sit there.

You can't sit there, either.

Stan, when human beings sit down,

they need something to sit in or on.

- Have you read the city paper?
- No.

Have you seen it? The living section.

"The evening reached
a spontaneous... climax

"when artist Brigitta Svendsen

"altered one photograph by taping paper

"over the... genitalia

"of her subject, John Munch, now
a detective with Baltimore Homicide."

You did it this time.
You pushed it right to the edge.

It's one thing to be naked
with your penis in private,

but to have you and your pudenda
right there in the Living section!

You've overstepped
the bounds of decency.

You are a public servant.

- This city affords you a good life.
- This really upsets you.

No, no, no.
I'm just thrilled for you, all right?

I never knew you cared enough.

John, you gotta stop doing things
like this to yourself.

It ain't healthy!

Since when do you care
about my health?

I don't!

It's the drugs!

- Now get the hell out of here.
- Yeah, right.

She put a big piece of paper over it.

All right, thanks a lot.

Case closed, Frank.

Ballistics matched the bullet
with Rafferty's gun.

The kid did it.

Too bad. She'll have nightmares
when she gets older and realises.

- It's kind of ironic, don't you think?
- What's that?

Here we are running through the projects
and the shooter was three doors down

in the white neighbourhood.

If I got the same case today,
same specs, same neighbourhood,

I'd probably run the investigation
the same way.

So would I, Frank.

Yep?

I've exhausted every lead, theory

and inspiration on who shot Pratt.

- I'll look into all new information.
- Glad to hear it.

I sincerely doubt there will be any.

Pratt's name will remain in red.

- Won't help the crimes rate any.
- No. Just wanted to let you know.

- Check out everyone's alibi?
- Yes.

Including Munch's? He's cleared?

He's clear.

Some cases get closed, some don't.

- OK?
- OK!

OK.

¶ Every finger in the room
is pointing at me

¶ I wanna spit in their faces

¶ Then I get afraid
of what that could bring

¶ Got a bowling ball in my stomach
Got a desert in my mouth

¶ Figures that my courage

¶ Would choose to sell out now

¶ Why do we crucify ourselves?

¶ Every day

¶ I crucify myself

¶ And nothing I do is good enough
for you, I crucify myself... ¶