Original subtitles

NARRATOR: In the last episode of Hill Street Blues...

Do it, dog breath,

and your brains will go across the street.

Stop this criminal act, or I shall be forced to use violence.

Name?

(fanfare) Captain Freedom. (mimics explosion)

When I walk, buildings shake and bad guys wet their pants.

Hey, is that a bleeding mole on your forehead?

(chuckles) What bleeding mole?

You know, it's one of the seven danger signs of cancer.

Polysorbate 60, artificial colorings and flavoring, and scorbic acid?

You're a walking time bomb, Leo.

That missing plaster up there could be exposing you to asbestos poisoning.

You know, the tiny particles, they filter down and get into your lungs.

I'm the one who's supposed to fight the bad guys.

It's what they pay me for.

They do need me on Mars. There's a serious crime problem there.

I have to build a spaceship.

Yeah, take your time. Do it right.

Well, if you're in need of the services of Captain Freedom,

just hand a red flag from your rooftop.

Or a blanket.

NARRATOR: And now, on Hill Street Blues...

I want this golf ball booked, locked up, or I quit.

Listen to me. You gotta get ahold of yourself.

This Alice in Wonderland stuff is fun, but it's gotta stop.

I'm running the cleanest department in 40 years.

The Hill's clean, Chief, if that's what you called me up here to talk about.

Are you implying I'm guilty of a crime, Mr. Peck?

I'm implying that you may have perjured yourself today.

(chattering)

ESTERHAUS: Introducing the new and improved A-16 arrest form.

You've all been handed a copy.

-MAN: Right here, Sarge. -Uh--

The important difference in this new form involves the utilization of six--

I repeat, six... carbons in tandem.

Because of this, you are invited to apply

copious amounts of "ligatoid" and muscular pressure

when using pen or pencil, so as to cause each underlying sheet

to render itself legible.

-Got enough lead in your pencil, J.D.? -Just had it sharpened.

Item 12 is a memo from Gang Intervention

concerning the upcoming expiration of a number of treaties,

specifically those between the Blood, Mau-Maus,

Shamrocks, Diablos.

The, uh, thrust of said memo, pending negotiations,

let's not upset any apple carts.

-You won't believe what happened. -I don't want to hear it.

Be sensitive to your various behavior changes which may occur,

-and expect a 30 percent increase... -(arguing grows louder)

youth violence-wise.

-Listen to me for a second. I told you-- -I don't want to hear it.

PHIL: Coffey, Bates, a little decorum, please.

(laughter)

The subject of which brings me to last night's nuptial celebration

-of Mr. and Mrs. Rudy Pestolozzi... -MAN: All right!

attended by the officers of this precinct at the Kubiak Lodge.

In general, I would be remiss if I failed to note

with some dismay the alcoholic consumption per capita of this precinct...

(chattering)

And in specific, the behavior of a certain officer of the female persuasion,

who, no doubt under the influence of certain controlled substances,

performed a remarkably lewd and suggestive striptease dance...

(chattering)

PHIL: Much to the embarrassment

-of the bride's mother and father. -It was beautiful.

(applause)

HILL: We loved it though, Sarge.

Be apprised, on duty or off,

professional standards of conduct must apply.

(speaking French)

Bon.

Boo. (laughs)

As a personal aside, however,

may I express a certain grudging admiration

for said female's outstanding suppleness of limb...

-MAN: Yeah. -PHIL: As well as her youthfully firm

other attributes.

(chattering)

(speaking French)

-RENKO: What did he say? -HILL: Say what?

I said, "Let's roll, and let's be careful out there."

-COFFEY: Will you look at my eye? -BATES: No.

(chattering)

-COFFEY: What's wrong with you? -BATES: I don't want to look at your eye.

COFFEY: Hey, just-- Hey, come back here for one second.

BATES: Forget it.

Would you at least let me explain, Lucy?

Sunrise breakfast at The Breakers, huh, big shot?

Champagne at dawn?

I waited for you until 6:30, and I felt like a jerk.

I would have met you, but I stopped home to clean up after the wedding,

and I fell coming out of the shower.

Well, what do you think-- I did this to myself on purpose?

You should have called anyway.

Lucy, I was out cold on the floor.

-Did you to see a doctor? -Yeah. That's why I was late to roll call.

Oh, Joe.

-You could have really hurt yourself. -I'm all right, though.

You think you got problems? We've really got problems.

-What do you mean, we've got problems? -We, W-E, as in "we, us."

-You gotta take some responsibility. -I wasn't even there!

What are you talking about anyway?

Just step into my office for a minute here.

Oh, no. I'm not goin' in there. I'm not. No! Uh-uh.

WOMAN (on radio): Dispatch. We have a 9-11.

Armed robbery in progress.

See Surplus Store, corner People's Drive and 124th Street.

(sirens wailing)

(theme music playing)

(toilet flushes)

Let's go, Samson.

Later, man.

I lost my gun-- My departmental piece.

-(snickers) -He didn't lose it. Someone stole it.

Last night, after "Pestolo--" whatever his name is's wedding--

we were playing cards in the back of Kubiak's Lodge--

Two guys dropped in in ski masks, 12-gauge shotguns

and boosted all the money and his (snickering) gun.

So what's the big deal? You report it, and that's it.

No, no. Luce, you don't understand.

Kubiak would lose their liquor license,

Mitch Flynn's wife would kill him if she found out he was there--

-Hold it for one there, please. -MAN: What's goin' on in there?

Not to mention what it'd do to my chances of being in plain clothes.

MAN: Come on, I gotta go.

-Well, what do you want us to do? -Come on, get out of there.

I want my money!

I want some satisfaction.

(onlookers clamoring)

-Hey, hey, hey, hey. -Hey.

-I want some justice. -You'll get your money.

My machine!

What did they do to you? Oh, my God.

-I'll take you out of here. -Lou. Lou.

No. Don't touch me. Get away from me.

I'm taking my machine out of here.

I'm not letting you maniacs torture it anymore.

Lou, calm down. You don't even have a dolly.

That's all right. I'll carry it out on my back.

Oh, Lou, people are naturally prone toward snap decisions

after witnessing a violent act.

Hey, hey. Give yourself some time.

(moaning)

You've beaten my machines.

You-- You call it names I don't even hear out on the street.

You've even shot it.

That's it. It's over.

Done. Finished!

You want sweet rolls?

You'll walk six blocks in the snow.

Let's talk about that.

-No.

You never understood.

These machines-- They're like my children.

Police stations-- They said, "Put 'em in police stations."

-"Think of the traffic." -Sit down, Lou.

We had a slight drama in the corridor. I'll try for a happy ending.

Lou.

That machine-- it's a survivor.

After all the abuse and punishment, still it stands, bloody but unbowed.

It's a symbol, Lou.

You take it away, anything could happen.

The line could falter, break. The hordes come crashing in.

You don't supply tasty diversions.

You give us the reason to go on.

Renko, if this is gonna be so easy, what do you need the three of us for?

Like I said, it's easy, but it requires people who can work in depth.

-JOE: Oh, man, I'm gonna get sick. -BATES: Got a balloon.

Oh, God!

That's it, Renko. Enough is enough.

Aw, come on, Joe. My whole career is on the line here.

-Just give me two more minutes, huh? -You said that 20 minutes ago.

Aw, this is stupid, Renko.

I mean, they wouldn't dump a $310 Smith & Wesson.

If they spied the precinct I.D. number on the butt, they would.

I mean, who would want to get caught with a departmental piece?

In which case, what better place to put the evidence

than back here, behind the scene of the crime?

(Bates grimacing)

COFFEY: Sound reasoning, Renko.

Just let me know if you have any luck finding it.

Hey.

Hey, what's going on out here?

-HILL: Well, uh-- -RENKO: Uh, sir.

I'm sorry to be invading your premises like this,

but we're involved in what you might call a special-type investigation--

the details of which, on account of security considerations--

You see, sir, there was a hot pursuit of several bank robbers

down through this alley here yesterday, and, uh,

well, we have very good reason to believe

that they may have ditched some of the money in one of these containers.

-You gotta be kiddin' me. -TOGETHER: No!

-You-- You mean right down here? -Yeah.

-In my alley? -RENKO: Yeah.

Well, uh, how much did they get?

How much did they get?

Uh, well, the bank hasn't calculated how much yet,

except, uh, it's well in excess of--

-Uh, $60,000. -$60,000.

Men, we better get back to headquarters and check on any new leads.

-We'll finish this up later. -HILL: Yeah.

-No, no. -Okay.

Uh, yeah, fellas, we'll-- We'll see ya. Huh?

Now, come around any time.

(laughs) Yeah. Any-- Anything we can--

-(car starts) -Can--

Prunes, prune juice, mineral oil.

You ever have hemorrhoids, Frank?

Can't say as I have, Chief.

You're one of the blessed ones, believe me.

It's the closest thing in the world to having a tennis ball up there.

Cheers.

Ooh! (groans)

Weak rectal tissue-- It's hereditary, Frank.

Thank you.

You were saying about the Sullivan Commission?

Damn it, Frank.

I'm running the cleanest department in 40 years,

and no little shrimp of a Michael Sullivan--

who I happen to remember when he was a shrimp of an assistant D.A.--

is gonna make Lieutenant Governor by crucifying me.

The Hill's clean, Chief, if that's what you called me up here to talk about.

I know the Hill's clean. So's the Heights. So's Midtown.

What I'm worried about, frankly, is Georgie Haluska in South Ferry.

Nicest guy in the world, Georgie, but let's face it--

there's an "unflushed" toilet down there somewhere.

So you're gonna feed George Haluska to the Sullivan Commission?

This may sound paranoid, Frank,

but in the entire department, there are only four men that I trust implicitly,

and three of them are sitting right here at this table.

So word simply can't leak out.

I'm putting you in charge of the entire operation.

What operation?

We're gonna set up a scam saloon over in the Ferry, Frank.

Put out the bait for some payoffs.

You'll run it-- in your way, with your men.

Chief, I don't have enough men to cover the Hill.

We have a major crime-rate increase of 16 percent,

and I'm so short of personnel of any description

that I had to take three uniforms off the street last week

just to take care of the paperwork up there.

Frank, I'm not just blowing rank air here. I need you on this one.

Jerry, make a note of it--

We'll transfer two clerks up to the Hill out of Division as of Monday.

Right.

I know this isn't gonna win you any Good Samaritan plaques

from the Police Guild, Frank,

but there are too many guys around that would like nothing better than to see

Fletch Daniels's butt deep fried in brown sauce.

I hope you're not one of them.

(air hissing)

-(hissing stops) -(groans)

(groans)

One assurance.

No politics.

No politics, Frank.

We're just gonna do our own late-inning relief.

They're playing hardball.

We're gonna show 'em we can play hardball too.

(Fuchs laughing)

Uh, I was just thinking about that joke I heard on my way over.

You're gonna love this one, Frank.

It seems there were these two old baseball players--

Uh, Harry and Lou-- and they're talking about life after death.

...If there's a heaven, and if so, do they play baseball up there.

Well, they make this pact--

First one to go will communicate with the other.

So, sure enough, a couple of months later, Harry passes on.

One night, Lou's lying in bed,

hears a voice, wakes up, sits up, looks around--

He says, "Harry, is that you?" He says, "Yeah."

He says, "Where are you?" He says, "Well, I'm in heaven."

He says, "Hey, terrific. Well, come on. Let's have it.

Do they play baseball or don't they?"

And he-- Harry says,

"Listen, I got some good news for you and I got some bad news."

He says, "Yeah?"

He says, "Well, the good news is, sure, we play almost every day."

He says, "What's the bad news?"

He says, "The bad news is, you're pitching tomorrow."

(laughing)

Excuse me, Captain. This is for you.

(continues laughing)

It's a subpoena.

"You're pitching tomorrow."

That's good.

(continues laughing)

"You are hereby summoned to appear at 5:00 at the Superior Court Building."

They sure didn't give you much notice.

What do you make of that?

Read between the legalese, Frank. The intent literally leaps off the page.

In preparation for his soon-to-be-announced campaign

for the governorship,

Attorney General Michael "Hatchet Man" Sullivan

desperately requires your presence

before a grand jury of his special investigating commission

on police corruption.

If it's good for votes, it's good for Mike.

Okay. So, why me?

Either they want to compliment you on your taste in clothes,

or they're going to ask you if you're dirty--

or know anybody who is.

Joyce, Sullivan's had that grand jury impaneled for over six weeks now,

and he hasn't been able to get past the fixed ticket and free lunch stage.

The man's gotta find something to justify that two million dollar commission of his,

and believe me-- knowing Sullivan--

if the dirt doesn't exist, he'll create it.

Well, Counselor, when it comes to grand juries, I'm not exactly a virgin,

so if it's a dog-and-pony show they're after,

I suppose I could dance around the ring for them for a couple hours.

Uh-oh. Uh--

Could you float me a buck for another club soda, please?

I hope you don't have anything to hide, boy scout.

You mean besides the condo in Saint Croix and the high-priced legal talent?

Man, oh, man, that Denise has got you so henpecked--

-you don't know if you're coming or going. -Me henpecked?

-You gotta be kidding. -"Oh, yes, Denise,

I'll leave my bachelor pad

-for a honeymoon suite." -Renko, so what if we're living together?

"Where do you want the hope chest, dovey?"

-Knock it off, man. -"Sure I will, sweetheart."

♪ We'll get married in June ♪

A wedding? Who said anything about marriage?

"Hey, snookums, you know I've given up my randy ways.

-I don't believe you. -I'll never, ever--"

-Hey, Renko-- stop sign! -(brakes screeching)

-(crash) -Oh, man.

HILL: Get out the car, Renko! RENKO: What is that?

HILL: Get out the car!

(siren in distance)

Listen, Joe, you don't have to play the hero.

If you feel half as bad as you look,

you should just take the rest of the day off.

-It's okay. I'm fine. -(clattering)

What, are they washing those dishes in a cement mixer?

-You sure you're okay? -Yeah.

Darn it, Joseph.

I am ashamed of the way I acted this morning at roll call.

I mean, you nearly die in your own bathroom,

and I'm upset about some lousy breakfast date.

It's just-- It's just stupid.

Hey.

I owe you an apology, pal.

-No problem. Forget about it. -No.

-Could I have a check, please? -No, really.

First of all, I never would have slugged you if I'd have known you was a cop.

Hey, it's history, okay?

Secondly, and more important,

you're not the first guy my wife picked up in a bar.

You wouldn't believe some of the slobs she brings home.

I'm thinkin' about putting a turnstile on the bedroom door.

She probably didn't even tell you she was married, did she?

Could we talk about this another time?

-Could I have a check, please? -Personally, I hate violence.

But when I saw you coming out of my door this morning at 5:30,

with my wife hanging all over you

in that see-through number, I guess I just snapped.

See, the truth of the matter is,

my wife and I have been undergoing some serious problems of late,

as a result of which she's been taking out her anger at me through these

extra-marital encounters.

You mean like with Joe?

The fact is, she probably wasn't even attracted to him.

Our counselor regards it as a classic aggression- displacement syndrome.

But I feel it goes back to her upbringing in Bangor, Maine.

Don't buy me lunch.

I feel a lot better, now that I've shared this with you.

Would you just push?

I can't help it if a doggone stop sign just jumps up in front of me like that--

-What do you want me to do, pop a wheelie? -It wouldn't have jumped up on you, Renko,

if you hadn't been so damn busy

trying to pseudo-psychoanalyze my domestic life!

You know, we're in a public place here. A public place.

-I'll deal with you later. -Hey! You--

You wipe that smirk off your face, and you take that ghetto blaster,

and you just walk away from here, man. Walk away from here right now.

Look, you got a registration to go with this?

-I'm sorry, Officer. It's not my car. -Aw. Here goes lunch.

No, I mean it's from Manelli Motors, where I work.

Honest.

Dr. Litvak-- He brought it in last week.

He needed a valve job,

and he won't be picking it up for another three days,

so Roy said I could take it down to City Hall for a couple of hours.

Jimmy's brother's getting married in a half an hour.

Wait, wait-- Wait a minute. Who is Roy?

He's the manager of the garage. He let me take it.

-No lie. -You know what?

-I don't feel sorry about you at all. -Renko, knock it off.

-I don't feel sorry about this at all. -Go back to your car.

I'm gonna run your license in.

-Oh, baby.

I don't know what the hell he's talkin' about.

Hey, come on, Roy.

-You told me I could take it. Tell 'em. -Damn it, Jimmy.

You know how Mr. Manelli is about customers' wheels.

Ordinarily I'd cover for the kid,

but that's 800 bills' worth, if it's a dime,

and I ain't puttin' my job on no line.

You're lyin', Roy.

-Be quiet. -But he gave me the keys, man.

He told me it'd be okay as long as I got it back before the boss was due.

So you're maintaining that he stole the car?

-Yeah. -I didn't steal nothin'!

-He's just lying to save his lousy butt. -Hey, Jimmy.

Didn't I tell you to be quiet? Now, be quiet.

It wasn't enough I gave him the rest of the day off for the wedding.

He wanted some wheels besides.

He's lying, man. I swear to God.

He must have drove it out of here

when I went to pick up that cylinder head over on Richmond.

LARUE: You know what I mean?

We're talking double-digit inflation here, Neal.

I could make a bigger return on my investment if I stuck the bread

in a sock drawer, so I pulled every penny out and I stuck it

in a ready-asset money mart fund.

Hey, if the prime rate holds, I'm swimming in it.

Hey, sounds good, babe.

How much you invest?

-Four hundred and 60 bucks. -NEAL: Whoo!

J.D.: Hey, what's with that dude in the peacoat?

Hey, he's cool, babe.

Waiting on an old lady he walked up with-- Probably his mother or something.

(sighs) Thirty-four years old, in my peak earning years,

and here I sit all day long, staring at buildings.

I swear, one of these punks don't hit soon,

I'm gonna jump one of these old broads myself.

J.D.: Man, I gotta tap a kidney.

Uh, you want a sandwich or something from the bar across the street?

NEAL: No thanks, man.

Hey, just don't take all day, hey, J.D.?

How long can a quart of gin take?

(blues on jukebox)

Mm-mmm.

All of Hollywood searching for the perfect sex goddess of the '80s,

and here she is, stacking rocks glasses in a Fourth Street bar.

Hey, I know what you're thinking.

"He's a handsome devil, but will he be gentle?"

-Not exactly. -(laughing)

Well, as long as you're considering the possibilities,

you wanna write me up for a club soda and a ham-and-cheese on wheat?

Hmm?

You don't remember me, do you, J.D.?

Well, I--

-Katy Moore? -Sure. Well, yeah.

I met you at Mulligan's with Kevin Donleavy

-about two years ago. -Right, Katy.

Hey, you know how dark it always was in that joint.

Huh, Katy?

As I recall, it was pretty dark in my apartment that night, too.

(sighs) Wow.

Hey, I'm sorry, baby.

Look, I was into some pretty major-league drinking back then, you know?

You must have caught me on a lost weekend.

On the wagon now?

-Six months.

Good.

Uh, let me ask you something.

Did, uh-- Did we have a good time that night?

(laughs) Yeah.

You gonna talk to me or what? I said I was sorry.

Look, if-- If the guy hadn't duked me, I was still gonna meet you.

I was leaving her place to come and see you.

Thanks a million.

Well, what do you expect me to do?

A guys works a 60-hour job, he's gotta take it when he can get it.

You wanna keep it till we get in the car?

Yeah, I gotta be at my--

I asked you out plenty of times, and I never heard more dumb excuses.

JOE: "Luce, you wanna go to the hot tubs tonight?"

"No, Joe. I gotta do my nails."

-"Maybe we can watch some television." -No gas cap?

-That's a violation. -"No, Joe. I gotta get some sleep."

Violation?

I really had the hots for you, Luce.

No side-view mirror?

Buddy, please. All I did was turn against the light.

-And you wanna know something? -You don't anymore.

Well, don't look at me like it's my fault.

BATES: Well, then, whose fault is it?

Lucy, we both have a lot of displaced anger towards each other, that's all.

Yours might be displaced. Mine's not.

No horn.

You know, all my life I've had this compulsion

to dominate every woman that came in my life.

It was like a disease.

Oh, who you kidding? So you took two aspirin, and it's gone.

But you taught me how to discriminate between the women I work with

and the women I romance.

Sign.

Okay, so you wanna take a hot tub with me tonight?

Eat a worm.

NEAL: Tap the kidney, eh, babe?

If you can't get me at home, you can try the number here--

Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays.

I will commit this number to memory.

(screams)

-(tires screeching) -(onlookers clamoring)

-Hold it! -Hold it.

Thanks for the backup, men.

What the hell is--

-You should be ashamed of yourself-- -Mom--

-locking up an innocent young man-- -Mom, it isn't his fault.

-It's that stinkin' liar Roy. -Be quiet, you troublemaker.

MAN: $50 it cost me to bail you out-- $50.

It took me five hours to do my hair this morning.

-In there, and shut up. -Hi, Leo.

Hey, Cooper, take these guys, will you, man?

Caught some of them, Leo-- the welfare muggers.

Not the Captain.

I want this golf ball booked, locked up, or I quit.

Professional rivalry here, Leo.

I was directly responsible for the apprehension of the criminals.

-The collar is mine. -This guy is a suicidal maniac.

He's a menace to public safety,

and he leaped in front of a fleeing vehicle.

CAPTAIN FREEDOM: My intent was to cushion the impact with my body.

See? The guy's got a 50-knot breeze between his ears.

All right, I'm getting tired of this.

Grant Newcomb, federal investigator.

And before you start with the "he's loony" business, hotshot,

maybe you just better listen.

I've been on the street three months, with counterparts in 17 major cities.

We are the vanguard of a task force that is studying the tactical reaction time

of urban police forces.

Now, this is vitally important, with respect to an extrapolation

predicting an epidemic of metropolitan crime in the next decade.

Here. Pass it around.

Sure, the costume's silly, but it gets me in and out of crime situations

with a minimum of risk and without arousing suspicion.

I couldn't very well go around holding up liquor stores, now could I?

If you want confirmation,

call this TRANS-STAT number in Montgomery, Alabama.

It's a logistics center on the niner-five profile

with a direct satellite feed to Washington.

Thank you, Off-- Uh, Agent Newcomb.

Then again, the Astro Space Zombies may have destroyed it by now.

J.D.: Can't take it.

-I'm gonna kill him. -Be cool, babe.

You know what this is, Frank?

-Looks like a subpoena. -It's a subpoena.

The Sullivan Commission has asked me to testify this afternoon.

Do you want to know why I'm as pleased as punch?

-Good question, Howard. -Well...

-I went through all the possibilities. -He's here.

-I'll call you back. -Could it be expense account vouchers?

-Of course not. -As soon as I know, you'll know.

Could it be procedural impropriety?

-Impossible. -I love you, too.

You know, I was a bit confused at first.

I mean, why subpoena me to an investigation of in-house corruption?

Then it came clear-- the book.

What book, Howard?

My book-- Third World Dysgenics, the Urban Crisis.

They got wind of it.

They want me to come down there and fill in the landscape for them.

They said that?

Well, it's the only thing that applies.

And believe you me, I'm gonna give those gavel jockeys

more than they bargained for.

I'm gonna bring the ambulance to the door.

It's their own half-baked liberal provisos that have led to this dry rot,

and I'm gonna lay it on the line.

It's too bad that they didn't call you fellas.

-Think again, Howard. -I got one too.

Oh, this is a virtual coup.

Between the three of us,

this whole plague of corruption and ill-guided reform

can be squeezed out into the open.

You could always read them the foreword to your book, Howard.

HUNTER: Yes.

Yes.

A profound statement like that read into the record--

That could be the beginning of something.

I've gotta look over my notes.

I've got a concluding paragraph I've gotta punch up.

You're not worried, are you, Ray?

I don't understand, Frank.

After 18 years of dedicated service.

When do they want you?

Soon. Very soon.

(speaking French)

(speaking French)

You speak the language.

Enough to get elected treasurer of my high school French club.

Oh, très bien, mon ami. Superbe.

And you are a man who can appreciate the importance

of what I carry here in my pocket.

-Is that, uh, a travel deposit? -Mais oui.

Grace and I have arranged a sabbatical to the country of kings.

We'll live as Frenchmen, talk the language, uh...

make love with the same aristocracy of passion.

-(Phil laughs) -Sounds authentic.

Oh, I'm there every night in my dreams.

The sun on the vines at Clos Vougeot.

The cypresses draping the road from Angoulême to Châtellerault.

-The-- -Phones that don't work,

plumbing built in 12 A.D.,

pastries that give you colonic dysentery

and toilet tissue that's like wax paper.

Etranger.

Come on, move it, water lily.

CAPTAIN FREEDOM: Stop it. These gloves were a gift from Orgon.

And I'll give 'em back to you as soon as I fingerprint you, I promise.

You can't give them back to me because I'm not going to give them to you.

-Please? -Buchanan.

Put him in water before he wilts.

-Why won't you take off your gloves? -What's goin' on here?

Mick, old friend, would you kindly tell this man

why it is impossible to fingerprint Captain Freedom?

I don't know why.

Why is it?

Well, maybe it is okay.

What are you doin', Leo? What's goin' on?

LaRue and Washington brought him in on charges.

Same story.

What's the matter with you?

Why didn't you tell those bozos you were a friend of mine?

It's not right to lean on your friends, Mick.

I got him, Leo. Come on.

You and I had a discussion a while back, didn't we?

I thought you were through with this.

Orders, Mick.

I've been recruited by the Neptunian Anti-Crime Patrol.

They transmit voice commands to me while I'm sleeping in my closet.

Do you ever stop and--

You sleep in a closet?

There's not nearly enough room in the microwave.

What am I gonna do with you?

I don't know. Kick me loose?

Listen to me. You gotta get ahold of yourself.

This Alice in Wonderland stuff is fun, but it's gotta stop.

I'm standing here watching you drift farther and farther away.

You gotta get straight. You gotta put yourself back in reality.

What is reality, Mick?

You ever seen the nucleus of an atom?

Yet the existence of the entire universe depends on it.

You ever touch the human soul?

Yet it drives you more strongly than any muscle in your body.

We step in and out of reality at every instant of our lives,

and yet we persist in reducing everything that we see to bland and secure terms.

A single fly is capable of laying more than 20 million eggs.

Leo Tolstoy pulled War and Peace from the nothingness of pure thought.

The gold in your teeth was manufactured in the interior of an exploding star.

What is reality? Who governs it? What are the rules?

Who is to say that at this very moment I and everything around you

are nothing but the creation of your own cosmic dreams?

Yeah.

(whispering) Actually, my goal is to have a sandwich named after me.

All you have to do is, you walk up and you say,

"Sarge, I lost my weapon." It's that easy.

I do not wish to hear any suggestions from this side of the room

concerning my implement, thank you very much.

-I can handle it myself. -All right.

What are you doing?

Can't you see that the angle you have drawn

representing the collision course of our two vehicles is shy 45 degrees?

I swear, if it wasn't for the white man's higher order of math intellect,

we'd still think the world was flat, wouldn't we?

And maybe if you close your eyes and wish real hard,

it'll be under your pillow in the morning.

Do you boys know anything about a gal calling in for a salt-and-pepper team?

That came in a few minutes ago, but she didn't know the names.

It's Trina.

And a guy called Roy who put her boyfriend in Mercy Hospital.

Hey, Sergeant, you got a spare unit we can use?

Unless I'm mistaken, we've yet to resolve the matter of your prior unit.

Well, it's real important, Sarge.

-It's an emergency, practically. -All right.

Grab a key off the board, and watch your fingers if Leo sees you.

And bring this one back intact, or keep driving.

(siren wailing)

-Oh, man. -It's broken in two places.

Look kind of like a champ, huh?

How'd it happen, son?

We went back to the garage. See, I figured it out.

Last month, we had a couple of robbers come in,

and since then, Roy's been keeping the car keys in a locked box.

So you see, there was no way that I could get that key

without him opening that box for me.

So I called him a liar, and he got hot.

You think maybe we could go back there now?

You see this? It's locked. Locked, locked!

You took the key out of the coffee cup.

You're out of your shorts, man.

-What coffee cup? -HILL: Jerry.

-He saw me put the key here. -You're a liar!

(all shouting)

-(indistinct shouting) -You fat, ugly slime face.

-Pig head. -Quiet.

-Dog brain! -Be quiet.

(all talking)

-Hey, hey, hey, hey. Hey, hey. -Come here. Come here.

-Lady, knock it off. -Hey, don't you do that. Look at this.

-I got this club, and I'll use it-- -Lady, hey!

-Get over here. I mean it. Get over here. -HILL: Just walk it off.

Get over here and be quiet.

Everyone, listen up for a second.

Now, my partner and I have no way of knowing

for sure who's telling the truth here,

and neither will a judge,

so if you press charges for auto theft, and you for assault,

chances are you both are gonna lose.

Do you understand that?

-Do you? -People versus Esterhaus--

Famous case. Equal and opposing participles.

Yeah, well, what about the damage to Dr. Litvak's Lincoln?

There's 800, 1,000 bucks there.

Look, I want some law enforcement here.

-"Law enforcement"? -Well, now.

Mr. Manelli, you have a small garage here.

Obliges you to park three or four of these cars

out in that red zone all day long, does it?

RENKO: Let's say we practice this law enforcement that you'd like us to do,

and we came by here, say, three or four times a day,

five days a week, at $25 a ticket--

Now work that out on your calculator, Professor.

Uh, let's see here.

Whoa! Cowboy, that's $2,500 a week.

RENKO: $2,500 a week, but there is a solution.

I'll tell you what we're gonna do for you.

Let's have handshakes all around.

That means you give him his job back,

the insurance pays for the damage to the Lincoln,

and everything is hunky-dory.

No harm, no foul. Thank you, Professor Hill.

The guy is going to his brother's wedding.

You stop short, and he plows into the rear of our car.

He winds up no job, a broken nose, arrested,

plus he's on the hook for bail money. Not to mention a torn tux.

And you say, "No harm, no foul."

Where in the hell have you been all day?

What is justice, my man?

What is justice?

DISPATCHER: All units in the vicinity. The man with the gun at 717 West 114th--

Hey, that sounds close, cowboy.

(siren blaring)

What is justice, my man?

I have this terrible sinking feeling in my gut, Frank.

Relax, Ray.

It's just a formality, nothing more. Believe me.

-You think so? -Piece of cake.

They're not interested in Third World Dysgenics.

They want my financial records.

Judas Priest, Frank.

If they're putting the brown shaft to our types,

can you imagine what they've got in store for this hombre?

-Howard. -After 18 years of dedicated service.

Well, I mean, who knows what skeletons a Caribbean past can hold?

Ray, you weren't involved in that Bay of Pigs fiasco, by any chance?

-(door opens) -WOMAN: Captain Furillo?

Loose lips sink ships, Frank.

Ask not for whom the bell tolls, Ray.

It tolls for thee.

(speaks Spanish)

Captain Furillo has received five meritorious commendations,

three medallions, and seven promotions during his years on the force.

I commend you, Captain.

Thank you.

Now, I have one very simple question to ask you.

Are you now, or have you ever been aware,

of any wrongdoings in the police department?

That's a broad question, Mr. Peck.

I've been in the department for 17 years, and wrongdoing, to go by the book,

can apply to just about anything, right on down to the office football pool,

which, yes, we're not without.

Well, perhaps I can help you a little bit.

By "wrongdoings," or corruption, I mean serious wrongdoings, Captain--

any act for which a police officer could be convicted of a felony.

And I will limit "at any time" to that period

since the Kraft Commission, five and a half years ago.

Does that make it easier for you?

I have no personal knowledge of any indictable crime

committed by an officer during that period--

except for those crimes that are already public knowledge

and for which prosecutions have already been instituted.

No personal knowledge?

That's correct.

Captain Furillo, who said anything about personal knowledge?

That's the biggest evasion of them all. We're a grand jury here.

What we are interested in is, what have you heard?

What's on the grapevine?

Now I ask you to reconsider your answer, Captain,

and to remember, you're under oath.

As a matter of fact, just to be on the safe side, Ms. Jackson,

would you read the captain his rights?

"As the possible target of a grand jury investigation you have certain rights.

-You have the right--" -I'm aware of my rights, Mr. Peck.

Good.

Then perhaps I can assist your memory just a little bit further.

Are you now, or have you ever been aware of any alleged corruption in this city's

South Ferry precinct?

Indeed, isn't it a matter of common knowledge, Captain,

that a detective pad exists in that precinct,

and isn't it a fact that that precinct

is an embarrassment to the upper echelons of the police department?

There have been rumors, yes.

Then you do have knowledge of crimes.

Rumor does not constitute knowledge, Mr. Peck.

As a matter of fact,

I would feel more comfortable discussing these matters

if this grand jury, since its inception, had, for just one day, met its obligation

of absolute secrecy.

Instead, stories have leaked out to the press every day this week

directly from this room.

Captain Furillo, do you wish to take the Fifth Amendment?

Are you implying I'm guilty of a crime, Mr. Peck?

I'm implying that you may have perjured yourself today.

I'm guilty of nothing-- but given the prevailing atmosphere,

clearly it would be inadvisable for me or my colleagues

to say any more without advice of counsel.

You will excuse me please.

Frank, what happened?

(clamoring)

Leo, somebody spilled water on the front steps.

Yes, ma'am.

I just thought you ought to know

before somebody slips and breaks their neck.

You mean after all that, they never even got to you?

I have to go back tomorrow. Eighteen years of dedicated service.

-Hello, gentlemen. -Oh, hello, Fay.

Francis isn't back from the grand jury yet.

-Cup of Sumatra? -No, thank you, Phil.

Something the matter, Fay?

I hope you had that checked like I told you.

Black mole cancer, Ray. I mean, it can just get you like that.

You'll be dead within four weeks.

There are worse things than cancer, Mrs. Furillo.

Excuse me, Fay.

Say, fellas, can I see you in the captain's office?

I hope your loved ones are well taken care of.

Oh, I take very good care of my loved ones, Mrs. Furillo.

Look, Sarge, if it's about that second unit

me and Renko tore up, we can explain that.

It's not about that, Bobby.

In fact, mes enfants,

you two aren't even gonna get near a squad car for the next several days.

Aw, Sarge, I'll plain croak out there on foot patrol.

Please let me explain my vehicular situation to you before--

Do you mind, Renko?

What I was commencing to inform you

is that you've both been selected to participate

in a major undercover operation.

I can't give you the details now, except that it involves a scam saloon,

and we'll be going after some fairly big fish.

-Are you interested? -Yes.

-(intercom buzzes) -(chuckles) Excuse me.

Now listen, cowboy, it's a great chance, but they're gonna find out

-about that stolen gun-- -Esterhaus.

-Oh, yes, Mr. Salbeni. -so you better tell them before they do.

-We don't want to blow this one. -Just a minute, Mr. Salbeni.

Uh, you two know anything about a garbage dispute over by the Kubiak Lodge?

Sanitation won't pick up. Says the stuff's all over the block.

Gotta bag it, Sarge. Those merchants know that.

I'll have to get back to you on that one, Mr. Salbeni.

Sarge?

Do you think I could have a word with you in private, please?

All right, Andy.

I have this friend named Shirley Battaglia,

you know, she just went in for her regular ob-gyn checkup.

Before you could say "hysterectomy,"

they'd yanked out her fallopian tubes, both ovaries and her uterus.

Two days later they found a lump in her husband's ear.

Cancer?

(sighs) I don't know, Henry.

You know, it just seems like everywhere you look

it's just death, death, death.

So, uh, I was kind of embarrassed, you know, Sarge?

(clicks tongue) You should have reported it immediately.

If the weapon were later used in the commission of a felony--

I'll call around. I'll see if anything turns up.

Sure you don't want a cup of coffee, Fay?

Hmm, I guess you didn't read about those coffee tests

on laboratory rats, did you?

(sighs) I guess Frank's not coming back.

I don't know, Henry.

You know, it just seems like nothing means anything anymore.

It's just one gigantic crap shoot.

We live. (sighs) We die.

We know not why.

Oh, Leo, do you smell gas?

No. No, I don't, Mrs. Furillo. Do you?

(moans)

You know, Frank,

I underestimated Michael Sullivan.

Apparently, there's something personal going on between him and Daniels.

"Apparently"?

They knew precisely what Daniels had discussed with me at breakfast.

-How? -How do I know how?

Spies, informants.

Daniels says I'm one of only four people

in the entire department he trusts totally.

That may be his normal flair for melodrama, but--

The mysterious intrigues of the Byzantium Police Department.

I'm sorry, Frank.

I know this could get ugly for you.

Hmm. Will you visit me in prison?

(laughs)

Every Sunday--

with a basket of fruit and the Sunday papers.

Then I'm not afraid of Michael Sullivan--

Not this moment, anyway.

Mm.

Mm, mm.

(closing theme playing)