All language subtitles for Homicide life on the street S04E10 - The Hat

Man, West Boondock,
the land that time forgot.

The land that the beltway by-passed.

This part takes me back. Used to bowl
duck pins on Boundary Avenue.

I hate comin' out here.
We gotta be outta our jurisdiction now.

- It's still Baltimore City.
- Barely.

Duck pins. I personally
don't see the point. Why waste time?

Play the game the way
it's supposed to be played.

El Rey Drive-in Movie
was there before it burned down.

How can you burn down a drive-in?
It's a parkin' lot.

Somebody set the screen on fire.

Single gunshot to the chest.

Charlie Wells. Say we go out
on a limb and guess this guy's name?

- This guy's only wearin' one boot.
- He is, is he?

There's a lot of criminal law books.

He was pretty pumped up
for an old guy. Crude tattoos.

- Ex-con.
- Some kinda jailhouse lawyer.

Most people here
probably got rap sheets.

I'd say 80 per cent.

- I'd say 90.
- Yeah? You're on.

- 20 bucks.
- You got it.

We'll get the guest registration,
get somebody to run it down for us.

- Munch'll do it. He owes me.
- Look at the tattoo above his belt.

"If found, return to Ida Flood, 582
Cougar Trail, Whitefish, Montana."

Like a piece of lost luggage.

One shot went through this wall,
through Number Five,

through the next wall, through
Number Six, through the next wall.

Into Number Seven,
where it ricocheted off a hot plate.

It smashed a lamp, dotted
both "l"s in the Gideon Bible.

It dug the slug out of the sofa.

They don't make motels
like they used to.

Where's that boot? He had one boot.

Where's the other one?

It's pathetic. It looks like my house.

What did he have in his wallet?

Ten bucks and a video club card.

No driver's licence?

No driver's licence, credit cards,

pictures of wife and kids.

No boot.

It seems Charlie Wells
had a philosophical problem with ID.

- How so?
- He didn't want any.

He sent back his social security card.

I hear that.

Ditto, the Department of Motor Vehicles.

Check this out. Look strange to you?

Nah, it's just Baltimore tap water.

I'm gonna let the lab run these.

He was trying to resign
from the US.

- You can do that?
- You can try.

Declare yourself
"a sovereign citizen of Turtle Island".

Turtle Island? Where's that?

Why steal one boot?
What good does it do you?

Why get a tattoo like that?

- Who's Ida Flood?
- His ex-wife?

- His mother?
- Bet.

You're on.

How you doin'?
Baltimore City Homicide. Who are you?

- Lonny Askew.
- You're staying here?

- Number Five.
- You at home this evening?

I don't know who did Charlie.

- Where were you?
- In a zone.

In a zone?
What the hell does that mean?

- You were stoned?
- I was out of it.

The bullet passed through your room,
you're lucky you're not out of it for good.

I wasn't payin' much attention.

- Gotta put this away. You mind?
- We'll want to talk to you later.

I ain't goin' nowhere. Unfortunately.

- He's got that Cadillac walk.
- He's a definite yard bird.

Qu estn haciendo los detectives?
Estn hablando con el Cherokee?

No, Mama.
Now they're goin' over to the office.

I told Charlie when he checked in,
"Four, a very unlucky number."

That's what my grandmother
used to say.

In Mandarin, the word for "four"
sounds like the word for death.

"Suuh", "suh". See?

It says here
he'd been here for three months.

- That's an unlucky number.
- Does everybody stay here that long?

It varies.
Anywhere from an hour to a year.

- Usually it's like a week or two.
- You called 911?

I knew right away what it was.
I was watchin' TV.

The Weather Channel?
Kinda helps me study.

Anyway, there was this boom! Boom!

Then I heard a motorcycle
start up and drive away.

I know I should have looked,
but I was kinda paralysed.

I just assumed it was Charlie.
I mean, it was Charlie's bike.

I'd know it anywhere. '39 Indian.
Dude, it was an awesome machine.

I don't suppose you have
a licence plate number?

Charlie did not believe in licence plates.

- Why am I not surprised?
- Charlie was weird, kinda schizo.

He'd get drunk,
shoot up the swimming pool.

Float beer cans
for his target practice.

- What kinda gun? A handgun?
- Big one.

There's no bike, there's no gun.

There's no boot. I'm gonna get Munch
to run a trace on the bike and the gun.

- Can I use your phone?
- In the line of duty?

Right.

- You only work nights?
- Go to school days.

Community college. Works out oK.

Don't think it's dangerous here alone?

The owner, Mr Chaudhari,
he keeps a gun in the drawer. See?

- Whoa!
- He showed me how to use it.

- Have you got a permit for this?
- Do you need one?

- Yes.
- You guys want it?

Well, we never turn down a gun.

- You feel 'em?
- Yeah, definitely.

The night has a thousand eyes.

This gun's been fired recently,
I can smell it.

Probably nothing to do
with Charlie Wells.

You never know,
could be our lucky night.

Full moon over The New Moon motel.
It's gotta mean somethin'.

Once in a while you get the luck you
deserve served up on a silver platter.

- That looks suspicious to you?
- It does. Very suspicious.

- Hold. Police!
- Hold it. Hold it!

Sit!

Por favor, djennos en paz.
Nosotros no hemos hecho nada.

- Anybody speak English?
- Me.

- What's your name, young fella?
- Walter.

- What's your last name?
- Gonzalez.

- Walter Gonzalez.
- A little late for a family outing.

- You know the man in unit four?
- Yes.

Ask if they've talked to him?

Hablaste con el hombre
en el nmero cuatro?

Yo le dije a los nios
que no se acercaran a ese hombre,

pero a ellos les gustaba
mucho la motocicleta.

She told us to stay away from him,
but we...

- We what?
- We like to sit on his motorcycle.

That doesn't really answer my question.

Can you ask her
if she's talked to Mr Wells today?

- Pero hablaste con el hoy?
- No, no, no.

Where were you headed?
A man was murdered tonight.

You guys sneakin' out
doesn't look good.

I quiere saber
por qu nos marchamos.

- Diles la verdad.
- We are illegal.

Tell your folks that everybody's gonna
have to stay in this room. OK?

Hey, wait a second. Excuse us.

These people got nothin'
to do with that murder.

- So?
- So why are you makin' 'em wait?

Because they're illegal.

Last time I checked
your badge didn't say INS.

Hey, Walter.
Que... Que les vaya bien.

The illegal immigration problem
in this country is staggering.

We're a little far north
of the Rio Grande.

My father's factory may close cos they
can do the labour cheaper elsewhere.

Everybody was an immigrant
at some point in this country.

- OK, some even by choice.
- That's different.

Two adults, eight kids, four dogs
crammed in that little room

like some sardines.

Why do people live like this?

Not why, how?

White Cavalier.
It's Detective Munch. Hey, baby.

Guys. ME says your victim
was killed by a single gunshot wound

fired at close range,
which severed his aorta.

Firearms says it was a 45 calibre.

Neither his gun, nor bike,
were registered.

The shooter popped Charlie
with his own gun,

and made his getaway with his bike.

Bound to happen, living in a cheap
motel, driving a priceless motorcycle.

It's an engraved invitation to mayhem.

It's not easy callin' in
a stolen bike with no plates,

no registration, no insurance.

Can't be too many '39 Indians around,
with or without plates.

True. It's a collector's item,
but it could've been a special order,

which means now it's on a container
ship bound for Bogota.

By the way guys, I'd watch my wallets,
if I were you.

I'm sorry to say that the clientele
here at the "Motel For Felons"

leaves something to be desired.

- What's the percentage?
- Well...

Counting all the adults registered
here, including your victim,

excluding the Gonzalez family,
which are illegal aliens,

98.9 per cent have criminal records.

Your usual types - hookers,
cheque kiters, bar room brawlers,

people who commit vehicular homicide
under the influence.

- Cream of humanity.
- Hey, I called it. 90 per cent.

Charlie Wells. Ten year bit
for assault and battery,

did two years of it at the Jeffrey
Bagel State Prison, Montana.

I'd want to keep an eye
on Mr and Mrs Evans.

Singularly lacking in any encounter
with the criminal justice system.

- Probably registered pseudonymously.
- Ida Flood?

I've been inundating Whitefish,
Montana with telephone inquiries.

- I'll keep you posted.
- Run these down the lab?

Sure.

I know what this is. But this looks
like it should have a goldfish in it.

So where do we start?

Michael and Moira Evans.

- It's Number 21, right?
- Yeah.

Doesn't look like anybody's home.
There's no car.

A guy checked in without one.

Think about it, living in a dump like
this, dependin' on public transport.

I'm surprised Dr Kevorkian
don't keep a suite here.

I thought I saw that curtain move.

Wait a minute. Did you hear somethin'?

- No.
- Do you smell cigarettes?

This whole place reeks of cigarettes.

- Give it up for now, come back later?
- Yeah.

Half of these citizens are
gonna be checked out by mornin'.

But, if we split up this list, we can
finish canvassing by midnight.

- What's that, a tepee?
- It's a sweat lodge.

The kind they let you build
in the joint,

so that inmates can exercise
their freedom of religion.

- You gotta problem with that?
- No problem at all.

So did you hear
what went down earlier?

I heard it. But it was like far away.

I was doing a sweat.
I really didn't think nothin' of it.

Bullet whizzes by your ear,
you think nothin' of it.

- It's not the first time.
- I hear that.

You and Charlie were hangin' together?

He used to come over here.
We'd smoke a little.

Take a sweat. Talk about stuff.

You and Charlie sat around
smoking tobacco? Just tobacco?

Mostly. Assorted herbs.

Wanna use the sweat lodge, it might
help you catch Charlie's killers.

- How so?
- Helps you see things.

Phew. Rain check. Rain check.

OK, that's it for now.

Oh...

Know if Charlie had any problem with his
feet, athlete's foot or ingrowing toenail?

No. Why?

Never mind.

I never had anything to do
with Charlie Wells.

He was paranoid.

He was touchy, man. He's not the only
guy around here who ever read a book.

I mean, I got a medical degree. I used
to be a doctor, an anaesthesiologist.

I made some good money,
let me tell you.

Now look at me.

What am I?

I'm a janitor... in an industrial park.
Which is the oxymoron of the century.

I mean, how can a park be industrial?
You know what I'm sayin'?

Look at this dump. Almost a year now
I've been here. Can you believe it?

I can't. Sometimes I look around
and I think what the hell happened?

I had a nice place in Annapolis,
a house on the eastern shore,

a wife, family, a Lexus.

That's neither here not there, is it?

I was here this evening.
I was checkin' my body in the mirror

for signs of melanoma,
which I do on a regular basis,

and I heard these shots,
a bullet came through here

like a message from Mohammed.

I figured Charlie Wells.
He's got a gun.

This big honking handgun.

Says he needs it in a place like this,
which is bull.

He needs it cos he's a flaming
lunatic. He's an angry, angry man.

Also maybe he dealt
a little meth on the side.

Shady characters
in and out of the room all hours.

You cop from him too, Greg?

No! No, no, no.
I'm clean these days, man.

Besides... that street meth
was never really my thing.

No, I could never go back
to that cut-rate crap.

Once you've tasted ambrosia

you can't settle for what's been lying
on life's steam table all day.

Why would anybody go back
to that street stuff,

when once upon a time
you had a pipeline

to the sweetest, purest designer drugs
this side of Heaven?

Only reason I ever went to med school.

Hey, how you doin', man?

'Lt can make their skin
look this youthful.

'Lntroducing the new
and advanced formula.

'The most important breakthrough
in skincare ever.'

- What are you doin'?
- Gotta run to the store.

Get outta my purse.
Didn't you get a cheque?

- Which you've spent.
- On groceries for the kids.

Lotto tickets. Why don't you just burn
our money? Don't know why I work.

You don't, unless your unemployment
runs out. Gimme that, you ass!

- Screw you!
- Stupid bitch!

Stop it!

Hi. I'm Detective Kellerman.

I apologise for the late hour,
but I'm here about the murder.

Come in.
You wanna beer?

That's oK, thanks.

I just got home. Workin' the swing shift
at Atlantic Gypsum.

- You missed all the excitement?
- I didn't.

Bullet flyin' in here,
smashed that lamp.

Thank God the kids were out.

- What happened to your eye?
- Nothin'.

Get it stitched up,
it's gonna leave a scar.

I will, as soon as I get the time.

- All of you in this room?
- Yeah.

- Where are your kids in school?
- We just got here.

Two weeks.
Your kids should be in school.

- Waitin' to see if my job turns out.
- Take care of it tomorrow.

I'm gonna send someone from Child
Protective Services, make sure you do.

You don't have to do that.
We'll deal with it.

- Did you know Charlie Wells?
- Not really.

Enough to say hello to.

He watched the kids once
when I had to get to the store.

- Since when?
- I told you about that.

- No, you didn't.
- I did.

You didn't.

Anyway, he was quiet.
He went to bed early and got up early.

I can't sleep and I'd look out,
he'd be up with the birds...

...doin' his exercises
out in the parking lot,

some kinda Kung Fu thing,
martial arts.

He helped me fill out my application
for Collington college of Cosmetology.

I'm thinkin' about
becoming a beautician.

Thanks.

Satan get. Satan go!
Satan, in the name of Elvis the king...

- Aren't you cold?
- It's heated. Ahh!

I'd ask you to join me,
but I know you're a cop.

- Wanna pass me that robe?
- Sure.

Oh!

Oh.

You can look now.

Huh. OK. I never know.

- Where to put my eyes, I mean.
- Oh.

- It's confusing.
- Mm.

Out in the world,
you not supposed to look.

I mean, you do,
but you pretend you don't.

Then sometimes
you're supposed to look, straight on,

get an eyeful and drop to your knees
and say "hallelujah".

If I wanted you
to drop to your knees, you'd know.

- Wouldn't be two ways about it.
- Don't suppose there would.

Where's that damn boot?

Gotta find that boot.

I want that boot.

Damn boot!

You ever dream about famous people?

- Do cartoon characters count?
- Sure, if they're famous.

Bugs Bunny.

- Dolly Parton.
- Really?

- On a regular basis.
- Are these dreams sexual?

No. Beauty tips. You know, skin care,
nail polish, cuticles.

Dolly's very knowledgeable
on cuticles.

You know, you remind me of someone.

I always remind men of someone.

- Let me ask you somethin'.
- Sure.

If you had it to do all over again,
would you be...

- A prostitute?
- Yeah.

- Sure, in a second.
- What if it turned out worse?

I don't think I could be that unlucky
twice in a row.

How about you?

- How many times you been unlucky?
- Once.

- Girl, right?
- Yeah, it's a girl I used to know.

- Mm.
- I was in love with her.

- So she was the one, huh?
- Exactly.

- Love of your life?
- Yeah.

Maybe I think about it because I never
had a chance to give it a try.

You never had a chance to screw it up.

I still think about her.

You know, what if?
I toss and turn on one of those nights

when you can't fall asleep, and I
imagine this other life I might have had.

So if you had to do it over,
then you would.

I dunno.

I'd have to give up everything else
that's happened, a lot of that's good.

You blue cos this thing
you're workin' on hasn't panned out?

No, maybe it's not even that.
Maybe it's just the moon.

I remind you of her, huh?

A little.

A lot.

- So...
- So...

Tell me about Charlie Wells.

Sorry to bother you again.
I need your help.

We're guessin' whoever killed Charlie
escaped on his motorcycle.

That leaves me considerin',
how did the killer get here?

If he or she came here in a car,

they must've left the car
in the parkin' lot.

Now we checked with all the guests,
and all the cars are accounted for.

Which leads me back to the original
question. How did the killer get here?

Ridin' sissy on Charlie's bike?

Maybe he or she walked. You don't
have a car registered here, do you, sir?

- No, I don't.
- You walked.

We saw you walkin' down
in here earlier today.

- Where were you comin' from?
- Buying groceries. Remember?

So you could've killed Charlie,

took his bike, sold it,
used some change to buy groceries.

I didn't kill Charlie.

Askew, Lonny. Ten years, Arizona State
Prison at Tucson. Vehicular homicide.

- The moon. Is it waxing or waning?
- Waxin'.

Why do you think I live here,
Detective? In this little room?

It reminds me of my cell.

The judge gave me ten years'
punishment. But it wasn't enough.

I killed my best friend.

We were drunk.
What a clich, huh?

Drunken Indians. I was driving.

Screech, bang, thud, he's dead.

I have to live with that
every second in my cell.

I didn't kill Charlie Wells.

I didn't kill Charlie Wells.
I didn't kill Charlie Wells.

The bottom line is
everybody heard the shots.

Half of 'em heard Charlie's chopper
take off, but nobody saw nothing.

Now, Charlie was either God's gift,
or he was a lunatic.

Maybe he was a small-time drug dealer,
but maybe not.

Lemuel Galvin in 26,
lived in there with his racist dog.

That dog hates African-Americans.
Sits night and day readin' his Bible.

Lemuel, not the dog.

Stone freak for Jesus, it figures.

Swears that Charlie's got the mark
of Satan on him, the Beast.

Because he's a tattooed biker?

He's got a gap
between his front teeth.

- Maybe Galvin's the shooter?
- Nope. "Thou shalt not kill."

Muir didn't like Charlie,
but I don't think he whacked him.

- No 'nads?
- He's got the shakes.

- There you go. Toasted bagel.
- Thank you.

- Ma'am. I asked for no butter.
- I told him. I'll bring you another.

- Hate to waste perfectly good food.
- Welcome to eat it.

Me? All I eat's mistakes.

As far as Mrs Acquaviva
was concerned,

Charlie Wells walked on water.

I think Mrs Acquaviva
and Charlie had a thing.

- Hubby know?
- Got that impression.

- Jealous hubby?
- He was at work at Atlantic Gypsum.

The superintendent verified it.
So what about Lonny Askew?

- He didn't do it.
- Why are you so sure?

- Long story.
- Here you go, honey. Dry as a bone.

Thank you.

What about, er, a woman in 10A,
Ramona Rastafari, or whatever?

- Ramona Rostenkowski.
- Yeah.

A hooker. Likes to swim naked
in the motel pool.

- Sounds refreshing.
- Mm-hm.

Had a nice chat. She was in a session
when she heard the shots,

she couldn't stop what she was doin'
to go to the window.

Tough to check that alibi.

- Not many johns wanna tell the truth.
- I believe her.

- Why's that?
- Long story.

So I guess that all that's leavin' us
with is Mr and Mrs Evans.

Maybe they're home by now.

- Kosher?
- Better be?

Or what? You're gonna track
him down, make him eat it?

- I could find him.
- Fat chance.

You'll look at every one of those
before we get outta here?

- Should have been out of here by now.
- Quit bitchin', you're makin' me insane.

- I'm gonna get a coke.
- Don't go out.

It's dead. There's no one around.
I'll be back in two seconds.

- You want one?
- Yeah, oK. Diet.

Man, I'm tired. I can't wait
to crawl into my nice warm bed.

Me too. Ever been
to Lafayette Courts housin' project?

That rat's nest?
Sure, I investigated arsons there.

- They're tearin' it down tomorrow.
- Good riddance.

My entire childhood, ba-da-boom!

- You lived there?
- 8D.

We were the first inmates in 8D.

Four in a one bedroom,
like the Gonzalez's.

Then my sister come along,
we moved up to 10K.

- Man, what a view!
- The harbour?

Nope. Maggie Temple, 9A.

I watched her undress before
she grew anythin' worth watchin'.

We lost our innocence
on the bathroom tiles.

That's fascinating

Marla Kelly, 7K.

Ursula James, 11 D.

Lotte Nelson, 2E, had a booty
that would make you wanna...

We should go watch them blow it up,
and say goodbye to your callow youth.

- Nah.
- You talked to her?

- Nah, you?
- No.

- Oh, you frightened me.
- Moira Evans?

- Who are you?
- Baltimore City Homicide.

Detective Kellerman,
I'm Detective Lewis. Can we talk to you?

It's the middle of the night.

We apologise, but we've been waitin'
for you to get back.

- This can't wait until mornin'?
- No, actually.

OK. What do you want?

We wanna talk
to your husband as well.

He's asleep.

So you're gonna drink a diet
and a regular soda by yourself?

- As a matter of fact.
- Let's go wake him up.

I know it's in here somewhere.

Oh, here it is, I found it.

It doesn't seem to...
oops, butterfingers.

- Michael Evans. Hands up!
- Who are you?

- Cops. Wanna ask some questions.
- Sit down.

- About what?
- Charlie Wells.

- Who's that?
- Guy at Number Four. Killed earlier.

- There was a murder here?
- Yeah, really. Close by.

We were out all evenin'.
First we heard of it.

We were with friends, had dinner,
went to a movie,

went back to their place
had a few drinks.

- We'll need names and phone number.
- I don't have their number.

- We just met them in a bar.
- Suppose you ain't got their address?

- I'm not sure. Maybe we could find it.
- You know Charlie Wells?

- No.
- We just got here.

- How long you plannin' to stay?
- Looking for work.

Yeah, oK. Let's see some ID.

Sorry. My purse was stolen last week.
At the washeteria.

- What's that?
- That's my new purse.

Doesn't have anything in it,
but spare change.

- Let's see some ID from you.
- I lost my wallet about a month ago.

That's a hell of a coincidence.
Both ain't got no ID.

It's a drag. It's really inconvenient.

Sleep with your shoes on!
Get your ass against the wall.

Spread 'em. What's this?
Is there a reward?

I'm filin' a complaint on you guys.

You can file your complaint downtown.

We got a Alfred Barrow
with a Pennsylvania driver's licence.

You got a sheet on you, huh?
We'll find out soon enough.

- You, honey? Got a rap?
- Stupid!

You're the genius who needed a coke!

- Surprise, a gun.
- Thought you were gonna use that.

- Big talk!
- Afraid I would hit you. My mistake!

- You said it was our lucky night.
- We still don't have the boot.

Yeah. I need to check on whether those
two kids got put into school today.

- Got something for you.
- Found Ida Flood?

- Still in the works.
- Found the bike?

No sign of it
in the Baltimore metroplex.

It's out of the country. This time
next week some cocaine cartel jefe

will be driving round on his new 1939
Indian, makin' the seoritas swoon.

OK. Thanks.

- Ballistics come back?
- Yes, sir.

As did the lab results
on that liquid submitted by Lewis,

which screened positively for presence
of homemade methamphetamine.

Tap water, huh? What's this?

Firearms report on Alfred
Barrows, aka Michael Evans.

The gun that shot Charlie Wells.
Wait a second.

This can't be right.
There's no match on the damn gun.

- Right calibre, wrong gun.
- What?

They didn't shoot Wells,
not with that gun, anyway.

The money? More than ten grand.

- Maybe they saved up.
- They're dirty for somethin'.

- I guarantee you.
- No doubt.

Illegal gun. Maybe you can get 'em
on a weapons charge.

- Where does that leave us?
- With the owner of the motel's gun.

- Get the results from Ballistics?
- No, you said it wasn't a priority.

Guess we gotta go back out there.

Hasta luego, amigos.

- Good morning.
- Good morning.

- Any problems?
- Charlie Wells was killed last night.

Tried to call, but your machine was off.
The police took your gun.

- See you tonight.
- No... I'll see you.

New Moon motel don't look
no better in the sunlight.

Mr Chaudhari?
Can we ask you some questions?

I am so distraught,
I cannot tell you.

We confiscated a gun
in this office last night.

- The girl told me.
- We ran the serial number.

That firearm was stolen
a couple of years ago.

Possession of a stolen firearm
is a misdemeanour.

Tell us about the gun. You cooperate,
maybe we can work somethin' out.

Charlie Wells, he sold it to me.

He needed money. He owed me rent.
I needed a gun.

We made a deal.

- When was this?
- First of last month.

That gun's been fired recently.

I confess.

- I shot someone.
- Excuse me?

With that gun.

Three nights ago, I took the gun
with me to make the night deposit.

Someone tried to hold me up.

I shot him with that gun
in the stomach.

- You kill him?
- I don't know.

- He ran away.
- Ran?

Sort of. Like so.

- Did you report this?
- No.

Why should I make more trouble
for myself?

I really can't answer that for you.

Hey, wake up, man.

Found a guy gut shot
on Lasalle Street Tuesday.

Jimmy Dorland, one of the baddest
bandits in Baltimore.

Violent Crimes Task Force observed a
silence when they found he passed on.

- The bullets match Chaudhari's gun?
- Uh-huh.

- He killed him in self-defence.
- Yeah.

Closed a case we didn't mean to,
got nowhere on the one we meant to.

- You wanna interview everyone again?
- Do that, or get drunk.

Hey! Hold on!
Where you goin'? Police.

Hi, I got a call. "My father's dead,
come clean out the room."

- They want to let it.
- You're Charlie Wells' daughter?

- Uh-huh.
- You got here quick from Montana.

I live in Hagerstown, oK?
My brother called me from Bozeman.

- Is your name Ida Flood?
- Jennifer Wells.

Ida was my grandmother.
My dad's mum. She died in 1969.

- His mother.
- Yeah, so how do you know Ida?

Her name and address were tattooed
on Charlie's epidermis.

So that's how you found us. I always
thought that was so grotesque.

I guess it worked, didn't it?
I guess he knew what he was doin'.

What am I gonna do with these?
Give 'em to a rummage sale, I suppose.

- What a room to end up in.
- Your father had a record.

After he got out of prison,
he just disappeared.

Once in a blue moon, we'd get a card.
"I'm in the wind."

That's what the card would say.
"I'm in the wind."

- He had a pretty valuable motorcycle.
- Charlie?

- Yeah, a '39 Indian. Vintage wheels.
- If you say so.

I haven't seen him since I was 17.
No idea he was living so close.

Yeah. Guess you didn't find a stray
boot around here, did you?

I do remember he liked to go around
wearing just one boot.

- Why?
- I dunno.

He used to say,
"Not every shoe has to have a mate."

- OK.
- Well, he was weird. Even back then.

- Hey! You checkin' out?
- Checkin' out before I check out.

Charlie Wells and I had a lot
in common, being ex-cons.

I don't want to die in a fleabag motel.

Gonna get a real apartment, buy some
furniture, maybe even a plant.

- Try a fern, they take less care.
- So I hear.

- You goin' into town?
- No, the other way.

Turn the car round, Kellerman.

- Where we gonna have a better angle?
- We ain't goin'.

- Take ten minutes.
- We got a report to file.

How often do you see a blast this size?
995 pounds of dynamite. Kaboom!

Kaboom? Kellerman, that's my whole
youth you're "kabooming" there.

I know. Maggie Temple, 9A.
Sally Keeley, 7P.

- Marla Kelley, 7K.
- Never guessed you for sentimental.

Kellerman, I've lived a lot of
different places. Some nice, some not.

Lafayette Courts, my parents' home,
the last real home I ever had.

- Since then I've been rootless.
- Ruthless?

Rootless! Now turn the car round.
We're not goin'.

We're goin'. We're here.

Come on.

You wanna wait in the car.
I'm gonna watch.

Come on. Come on!

A big Victorian
with a white picket fence,

or a nasty-ass, graffiti-oned,
high rise tenement.

- It's the same thing, murder.
- You can't kill a building, Meldrick.

And after she's dead, they're gonna
take her and sell her brick by brick.

- Get your bricks here.
- This moanin' for brick and mortar.

- You sound like Scarlett o'Hara.
- What's wrong with that?

My whole past is gonna be gone with
the wind and you want me to watch.

Four, three, two, one...

Wow!

Late at night and you're sleepin'

You'll hear my lonesome call

And you'll feel my waiting lips

Barely touching you at all

But it's only as real

As any dream can seem

I'll see you in your wildest dream

A thousand miles
though I may be now

I'm before you on my knees

But a million miles can't erase

The love you had for me

A million miles it seems

But you can feel my love light beam

I'll see you

In your wildest dreams

- Whatcha got there?
- A brick.

- A brick?
- A brick.

Collect enough,
you could build a house.

Or a home.