All language subtitles for Hill.Street.Blues.S02E13.Zen.and.the.Art.of.Law.Enforcement.720p.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264-squalor_track3_[eng]

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

According to ballistics,
Ms. Gilliam was shot with a .45 automatic.

I'm scared, Frank. I'm really scared.

We'll get 'em, Joyce.

We have the gun that killed Pam Gilliam.

I was there!
But I didn't know about no gun he had.

Who's "he"? What's the name?

Hold it right there! Freeze!

JOYCE: Don't let this man get away, Frank.

I want his head on a stake
in the middle of Decker Avenue.

Big-time dope expert, huh, Crimmons?

I thought you told me this guy was okay!

I didn't know, Mr. Goldberg.
I thought he was cool!

We traded your coke dealer for a PCP lab.
You want it?

Ozzie, I would make
a lousy vice-president anyway.

Well, it appears that 284 of your
fellow Black officers feel differently.

You know why you got elected, bro?
Because you don't offend people.

Well, I want to offend people.
I don't care about eating lunch with them.

I'm doing what I have to do, Renko.

If you can't live with it,

-then I don't know--
-Go!

This is my building.

My hallway, my tenants. Beat it!

I been in here less than five minutes.

I already seen
at least eight code violations.

You off the wagon now?

Cheers, huh?

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

I hate to say it, but you were
a hell of a lot more attractive

when you were drinking.

I'm shakin' in my boots. (laughs)

All you can do is try and scare me, see?

But I don't scare.

We're staging our first sit-in
at Chief Daniels's office on Wednesday.

-A sit-in? Chief Daniels's office?
-Film at 11:00.

JOYCE: Word downtown is that
Pam Gilliam's killer is going to walk.

The P.D. who is working on the case

is telling people there's something wrong
with the search.

You mean this guy could actually walk?

We have no case.

ESTERHAUS: Item 12.

There's a memo out of Division
as regards a new pamphlet...

available from the Department
of Occupational Safety and Health.

Said pamphlet is described
as being "profusely illustrated,"

"must reading," and it's free.

I confess, I'm a bit in the dark, however,
as to its nature, contents-wise.

Um, the title is

You, Your Loved Ones and Gentle Herps.

Uh, Sarge, I think that's genital, uh...

-Herpes.
-(laughter)

Regardless, Commander Thompson
seems to feel

that, uh, loved-one-wise and health-wise,

you'll want to keep this one
in your glove compartment.

Item 13.

Officer Hill has an announcement.
Officer Hill.

(clears throat) Thanks.

There is an open membership meeting

for the Black Officers Coalition
to be held

at the main conference hall at Division,
Friday, 8:00.

Uh, if you-- if you have any questions,

um, you can see-- you can see me.

ESTERHAUS:
All right. The last item, item 14.

(man grunting)

What is that?

-(grunting continues)
-WOMAN: What is that?

Oh. Mick, would you please see to that?

To all uniformed officers,
Classes H-3 through H-5,

receiving checks yesterday
in the amount of

-$42,182...
-(impressed whistle)

(indistinct chattering)

...as opposed to their normal $421.82,

please be advised that Division is aware
of the double-digit computer glitch,

and personnel are sternly warned against
attempting to cash said instruments.

All right. That's it. Let's roll.

And hey. Hey! Let's be careful out there.

-(shouts)
-What are they doing, Lieutenant?

Oh, it's...

It's textbook stress conversion techniques
of the Imperial Japanese Marines,

-prior to their rape of Manchuria in 1932.
-(man grunts)

Therapy, Detective.

Venting one's rage
through the martial arts discipline.

(shouts)

Just seems to me
like you guys are doing it all wrong.

Oh? Well, as you were, gentlemen.

Maybe you'd like to show us.

(growling)

There, you see?

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)

-(typing)
-(phones ringing)

Hey, hey, hey, LaRue. Where you been?
Sleeping under a bush?

-I can't begin to explain, man.
-Well, you better.

-Captain's looking for us.
-Give me five minutes to splash my face.

Renko.

Renko, you're gonna be teamed up
with Stan Grebey

for the next couple of days.

He's just transferred
over from Washington Heights.

You mean, Stan Grebey?

Uh, w-- what about Bobby Hill?

Bobby's on special assignment,
per Division:

two days of BOC recruitment,
here and in the Heights.

-I'm looking for Andy Renko.
-He's over there.

Thanks.

Hey, you Renko?

Why, yes, I am. And you must be, uh--

Read the sign.

-Come on. Let's hit it. We're late.
-Well, now, Stan the Man,

that's not exactly how me and Bobby Hill
do it up here on the day shift.

You see, first,
I gotta take my morning sit-down.

So if you'd like to hold your water
for about ten minutes, I'll be right back.

Yeah, suit yourself, tiger.

FURILLO: Just as I arrived this morning
I received a call from Jerry Fuchs.

It was about you, J.D.

He said you missed your meet last night.

Yeah, the dude never showed.
(laughs) What a tap dance.

I must've looked in ten different joints.
I got about an hour's sleep. Don't worry.

I got another meet set in 45 minutes.

We'll still be able
to hit the lab this afternoon?

Copacetic, Captain. Warrants are ready.
Everything should go.

Okay. Keep me posted.

Better not be jacking us up
on this one, J.D.

I don't want to be walking
into a shootin' gallery.

Hey, come on.

Would I do that to you?
We're talking trust here.

-No, we are talking survival, man.
-Come on. Would ya?

You know, for a two-bit outpost
on the edge of the civilized world,

there is some first-rate talent

-comes through here.
-Come on, man.

Ray, if anyone wants to know,
I'm down at the Housing Authority.

See if there's any way I can get 'em
to declare war on that Sosa character.

Talk to Ernie Silvera down there. He loves
a lost cause almost as much as you do.

I'll tell him you said hello.

Oh! Oh, hello, precious. (chuckles)

(speaking French)

Oh. (speaks French)
(in English) You shouldn't have.

-Debbie Does Des Moines.
-Thank you. (chuckles)

-What's the occasion?
-I have a problem.

Sweetness, what's the matter?
(speaks in French)

Of all things, a dog.

(in English) Grace. A dog?

In my building, Phil.

It barks all night, and the landlord
won't do anything.

And the owner is a mean, vicious, beastly,
insensitive human being.

I have tried reasoning.
I have tried talking. I have tried...

In desperation,
I finally called the police,

and they won't do anything either.

I'm at my wit's end.

I'll give Chick Spillman in Midtown
a call.

Word downtown is that Pam Gilliam's killer
is going to walk.

-What?
-The P.D. who is working on the case

is telling people there's something wrong
with the search.

-Frank, if you guys blew this one--
-Oh, that's crazy.

The search was by the numbers.

I'm on my way
to see the assistant D.A. right now.

Can I tag along?

-You won't even know I'm there.
-Sure. Come on.

I'm afraid, Frank. Not this one.
God, not this one.

Now, I understand your situation,
personnel-wise.

Chick, would you mind very much

if I intrude myself into your precinct
on this one?

(laughing) I owe you, fella.

The dog's owner is Buck Mullins,
and he's home until noon.

(sniffles)

(dialing)

Mr. Mullins, this is Sergeant
Phil Esterhaus, Metropolitan Police.

Uh, we have a complainant
named Grace Gardner.

(Mullins speaking indistinctly)

ESTERHAUS: Name calling
is not gonna solve the problem.

I assure you, sir,
I am indeed a police officer.

(indistinct shouting)

-Now, just a--
-(line clicks)

(receiver clatters)

"Floozy." "Bozo." "Bogus"!

Excuse me, Grace.

Bates, when Coffey terminates his
ablutions, go pick this individual up.

Sarge, this is in Midtown.

I don't care if it's Costa Rica.
Go pick him up!

(blows)

Sorry about last night, man.
Lost my moneyman.

By the time the deal got all wired,
you were gone, man.

Got your first payment?

Hey, no sweat.

(footsteps approaching)

Put it in the glove compartment.

Gonna have to wait 48 hours now.

-Say what?
-You never showed. Had another customer.

Oh, man, come on. You can't do this to me.

I don't make this deal today,
I'm in the toilet.

-Waited two hours last night.
-Oh, man.

You know what domestic problems guys
like you cause guys like me?

I stay out past 2:00 in the morning,

the wife thinks
I'm getting the whistle wet.

-I don't need that, flake-head.
-Hey, man, I can dig it, huh? Never again.

I'm a businessman.
All day I deal with other businessmen.

I bet a jerk like you
can't even get Master Charge.

Hey. Hey, hey, look. I said I'm sorry.

-You a junkie? Alkie? What?
-I told ya, huh?

It was a screw-up.

Don't flush me, man.
I'm gonna be a gangbusters customer.

Give ya a break.

-Meet me at the place, 4:00 sharp.
-Hey, you got it, Bert.

And I really appreciate, huh?

-Do me a favor though.
-Yeah?

Do something with yourself, would ya?

You're an embarrassment
to be seen in public with.

There's two ways to get out.
Front's on Delaware.

That'll be Tepaz and O'Keefe.

-(chalk tapping)
-Back is on Tudor.

That's where the Doberman is.

Sirwell, you take care of that. Break in
these windows. Peterson'll be on the roof.

-How many inside?
-Five or six.

-What's the chances of fire on this one?
-Fairly extreme.

Ventilation's through windows
and vents only.

The place is loaded with goodies,
and they don't steel-cabinet a thing.

(Hunter chuckling)

Eh, you want me to tell 'em,
Jer, or you wanna tell 'em?

Uh, no, go ahead, Howard.

(chuckles)

Jer and I flushed out
a phenylcyclohexyl piperidine factory

on Ohio Street last year.

Now, it was your, uh,

it was your classic bilateral
warehouse siege maneuvers,

with 200 gallons of ether.

(chuckles)

Ballantine jumps the gun
and fires in a tear-gas grenade.

(laughing) You could have heard
the explosion half way to Uganda.

You-- you remember, Jer?

Two of the perpetrators
came screaming out the front door,

looking like they'd had Roman-candle
suppositories for lunch,

and the third guy-- (chuckles)

the third guy broad jumps
through the second-story window

into the Ganson Street Canal.

(Hunter laughing)

I'm sorry, sorry!

Oh, Judas H., it was funny. Oh!

-Anything else to add?
-(door shuts)

Yeah. The code word is "soup."

I'll be wired.
I'll go in through the front.

On "soup" you guys boot the door.
That's it.

Good work, John. Looks like we're all set.

Any questions?

Okay, that's it. Good luck.

(indistinct chattering)

Sarge, we got your Mr. Mullins.

He require any backup?

-No.
-No.

Where have you got him? In Holding?

No, he's over by your desk.
The little guy.

You're Buck Mullins?

Who were you expecting,
the Oakland Hell's Angels?

Okay, Sarge. I'm not moving, and I'm not
gettin' rid of my dog, and that's that.

Mr. Mullins, please.

Mrs. Gardner's not asking you
to dislodge your canine.

Merely lower his decibel range,
as it were.

I might add that your belligerence
towards her complaints

has not exactly mollified the situation.

Well, let me add, Sergeant, that the lady
is no angel herself, you know.

You know, ever since her husband died,

the noises coming out of that apartment
are unbelievable.

Noises? What sort of noises?

She runs around
with a six-and-a-half-foot palooka

who makes a sound like a wounded rhino
through the walls

every time he gets excited.

A wounded rhino?

Mm-hmm. You wanna talk animals?

This pug and Mrs. Gardner

make Call of the Wild
sound like a Baby Snooks album.

They oughta bring in Marlin Perkins
for the color commentary.

To get back to your dog, Mr. Mullins--

Okay, Sarge. Let's clear the air.

You wanna know the real history
behind this beef of hers?

The straight skinny?

The fact is, last year,
Mrs. Gardner and I had an affair.

You... and Mrs. Gardner?

She's the one that gave me the dog,
a Weimaraner named Floyd.

Yeah, he was a pup then,
but he goes a good 90 pounds now.

This woman is bizarro with a capital "B."

Get this, she gave me leather sheets
for my birthday.

HILL: Don't get me wrong, Alf. I'm not
trying to pressure you into anything.

I just think that you ought to reconsider.
Coalition could use you.

You look uncomfortable, Bobby.
You really like what you're doing?

I was elected to an office, Alf,
and I accepted. Simple as that.

Now, what do you say?
You gonna come to a meeting?

I've been with the department
nearly 20 years, Bobby.

This place is a model for racial equality

compared to what it was,
like when I first joined.

You could have cut it
with a knife back then.

It's all relative, Alf.

-There's--
-Report okay?

There's still a long way to go.

Forgive the cliché,
but if you're not part of the solution,

-then you're part of--
-You young boys

think you discover all the problems
driving to work this morning.

We had our own big push back
in 1968, Bobby.

After the energy died down
and the talks stopped,

the only ones that got hurt
were the ones that stuck their necks out.

I was one of them.
Real hot prospect in my day.

Got my wings clipped,
if you understand what I'm saying.

Alf, I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to imply anything.

I like you, Bobby. I appreciate what you
and the coalition are trying to do.

But I've got my own way
of doing things now.

-Hey, Bobby, where's Andrew J.?
-How in the hell should I know?

Hey, Ellis. Wait a minute, man.

(sighs) The coalition meeting
is just on my mind, and I...

(police radio chatter)

RENKO: So big deal.
So you were there last night.

Is there any law that says you can't visit
your father in the hospital

two days in a row?

Listen to you. He's been in there a week.
You haven't been to see him once.

Well, that's why I want to go tonight.
Come on, Trace.

We'll just get ourselves a spaghetti
dinner and go down there and visit him.

It'll be me and you and Tommy and Dad.
A regular family get-together.

We already had our annual get-together,
Andy, last Thanksgiving.

As I remember, you spent the day
with Bobby Hill and his folks.

Look, I'm sorry about that.

I know you went to all that kind
of trouble, and I'm sorry.

But I cannot take evenings like that,

everybody sitting around the house
for eight hours,

nobody talking to one another,

watching Dad get more and more drunk
and moody over Mom dying.

So why are you so anxious
for everybody to get together now?

I don't know. It's like we all sort of
split apart, you know?

Maybe I wasn't ready for it,
but I'm beginning to think that a--

a family should just stay together
no matter what.

Don't you think it's a little late
for that now, Andy?

Let's hurry it up, Renko.
We just got a 211 ten blocks away.

You just wait a minute.

New partner?

-Now, are you comin', or what?
-I told you, Andrew.

I already made plans.

If you can't, you can't. Simple as that.

Andy. You're afraid to see him alone.
Isn't that it?

Let's go, Renko.

-(shouting, clamoring)
-(sirens wailing)

Be cool with those things, guys.

Gang kids. Roy and my husband
chased them out back.

Hey, we were only kidding around.

-(shouting)
-BATES: Hey, he's gettin' away!

-Right there.
-You all right?

(chattering in distance)

-Ow!
-(grunts)

-(approaching footsteps)
-Oh, Mama.

-On your feet, punk! Against the door!
-Grebey!

Look at this, man! Where were you,
damn it? I could have got killed!

It's your own fault for taking off
like that, hot dog.

Man, you're supposed to back me!
That's your job!

I know my job, Renko. So jam it!

Bobby would've been here, you big slob.

(grunting)

MAN: Frank.

Come on.

There's been a tragic, horrible screw-up.

That's the only way I know
how to describe it.

The city's contract with Barney's Garage
expired six weeks ago.

The owner, Kazmarek,
never bothered to renew.

What does that have to do with anything?

Frank, did you have a search warrant
to retrieve that gun?

Of course not. We got it during the
inventory search, pursuant to the impound.

But the car was taken over to Barney's,
whose license was expired.

So, legally, the car
wasn't in our possession.

No possession, no legal impound,

no reason or right
for an inventory search.

Oh, come on. Just because some papers
weren't signed?

No court's gonna throw out a murder weapon
on the basis of that.

Not only will they throw out the weapon,

but Bragg's confession as well,

because it was coerced
through our possession of the weapon.

I don't-- I don't believe this.

I just-- I just don't believe it.
It's not possible.

I wouldn't believe it either.

But a major drug case
came down two weeks ago.

Franzia,
reversed for the identical reason.

Franzia hired some F. Lee Bailey-type

who uncovered the quirk
about the garage license.

And you didn't appeal it?

Immediately. The next day.

We lost.

And unfortunately, Frank,

I can't place the blame
on my office for this one.

After Franzia, we urgently memoed Division

not to have you use lapsed garages.

Apparently, the memo got put in a drawer.

Wai...

You mean this guy could actually walk?

As of now, we have no case.

If we indicted, the speedy trial rules
would run against us.

We have to let him go,
and hope we can build something.

Suppose we get Bragg to testify in court
against the shooter?

(cell door slamming)

-Counselor.
-Mr. Bragg.

If Wilbur walks, he's gonna kill you,
Tyler, because you informed on him.

I know Hump all my life.
I can handle it, you know?

Oh, really? You can handle being shot,
huh, Tyler?

You know what it's like to be shot?
In the gut, in the groin, in the face?

You know what it's like
to take a bullet in the face?

But if you testify
against Wilbur, he'll be gone.

And I can practically guarantee you
three years max.

I should sit inside for three years
when I can walk outside that door?

Know this, Bragg.

We're gonna make this case
if it takes until you're dead.

Who you kidding, chief?

You ain't got squat.

If you could do it, you'd do it.

What my client's indicating, Captain,
that in his own best interest here,

when you do have something,
we'll talk business.

"Business," Mr. Schwartz?
We're not talking business here.

We're talking murder,
and we're talking justice.

You believe that, bro?

When they got no business to talk,

they start talking like
it's for Time magazine.

"I'm talking murder. I'm talking justice."

(laughing maniacally)

JOYCE: They lost the memo in a drawer?

They lost the memo in a drawer,
and those animals are gonna walk?

Joyce, there's gonna be justice
for Pam Gilliam.

I don't know how, exactly,
but there will be.

No, there won't. I don't believe that
at all. Not at all.

It's the final travesty of everything.

I've wasted nearly the entire damn morning

tap dancing with those loads
down at Housing Authority.

Housing Authority?

The landlord situation
I told you about, Frank.

First-rate shark, this Sosa character.
Forces the rent-control tenants out,

then brings in new people
at triple the rents.

-Silvera could not help you?
-We went round and round,

but the bottom line was nada.

Do we want to do anything?

I guess they'll just have to take it
to renter's court.

Oh, great. So he gets cited for a couple
of building-code violations.

Enough citations pile up,
they condemn the building.

Sosa abandons it, collects the insurance,
and who loses?

All those helpless people, that's who.
Right out on the street.

You know what the real killer is?

He was laughing
when I was up there yesterday.

He knew I had nothing on him.

We're already two weeks behind
in our caseload, Henry.

As bad as it is, it's not our job.

If you can't make it happen,

-just let it go.
-Henry--

COFFEY: Don't give me a problem now.
Come on. Right through the door. Let's go.

-You stinkin'--
-You wanna end up in Emergency?

Huh? Let's go!

Mrs. Gardner? Mrs. Gardner.

If you wouldn't mind
waiting down in Roll Call,

the sergeant said
that he'll be down in just a minute.

-It's right down the stairs--
-I've been there before, Leo.

But Buck Mullins?

That repellent, little ferret-faced twerp.

It was barely a week
after Sam died, darling.

I was still in a state of shock.

Grace, how could you?

I don't feel I have to justify
my personal life, Phil--

particularly with regard to events
that occurred before we met.

The man writes comic books for a living.

(sighs) I suppose it was a sort of
postmortem libidinal urge.

I felt very alone at the time.

He came up to borrow some drain cleaner
late one evening

and ended up staying the night.

Well, I didn't plan it that way.

To think you actually solicited
my involvement

in this sordid personal episode.

I have never been so humiliated
in my entire life.

Oh, darling, I'm sorry.

But that howling beast hasn't allowed me
a proper sleep for weeks.

A proper penance, I would say. (chuckles)

And who else in that building have you
gifted with Weimaraners, hmm?

The superintendent, perhaps?

I can see this is leading nowhere.

How about the janitor? Is he sleeping
on leather sheets too?

Oh, for goodness sake, Phil!
I got those leather sheets as a gift.

I didn't like the grain,
and I dumped them on Mullins.

You got them as a gift? From who?

I suppose you've heard
of the Green Bay Packers?

(gasps)

Oh, relax, Phil.

It was only the offensive line.

(footsteps departing)

(siren wailing in distance)

-(knocking)
-HENRY: Mr. Bustamonte?

-Who is it?
-Uh, sorry.

It's, uh, Sergeant Goldblume.

-What do you want?
-I just want to talk to you.

Well, listen. I don't have time to talk
right now.

I'm moving out.

Good God, what happened?

I ran into an obstruction of justice.

My fault for believing there was anything
I could do about it.

If Sosa's responsible for this,
you file the charges. I'll put him away.

I don't want to do anything
for you or anybody.

-I can live with the face.
-(door opens)

I can't live with anything happening

-to my wife and my kid.
-(door closes)

Listen, I came back because I want to put
that little tyrant in his place.

The only way that's gonna happen
is if someone talks to a judge.

You, one of the other tenants.

He threatened your family!

No one knows better than me
how well the police can help.

(footsteps approaching)

Where is he?

Is he in his office?

He's always there.

Hey, wait a minute.

Whatever you're gonna do, uh,
will you wait till I get out of here?

-(phones ringing)
-(indistinct chattering)

(phone rings)

-Yeah, Belker.
-Mick. Good. This is Henry. You busy?

Always. What do you want?

I've got a situation
that could use a little assistance.

I need you and the two noseguards
from the night shift.

Homer and Cydel? What's the matter,
you lose some cattle on the expressway?

Mick, you ever wish you could get even
with your high school bully?

-I did.
-Well, this is gonna be better.

(siren wailing)

So how are those double "A" meetings
coming along?

-You're still going, aren't you?
-Thanks.

Uh, off and on.

Uh, let's change the subject, okay?

You have a plane to catch, or what?

You've been eyeing that watch of yours
ever since you sat down.

Got a special duty assignment.
4:00. No big deal.

I don't want to talk about that, okay?

You got a lot of nerve,
you know that, J.D.?

I don't hear word one
from you for over three weeks,

and then suddenly,
for some as yet unknown reason,

you call up and you want
to monopolize my afternoon.

I know you got dressed up, and I'm--

But I thought, why not?
Lunch at some nice, romantic spot.

Maybe he wants to pick up
where we left off.

But you don't want to go out.
You don't want to go to bed.

I mean, just what did you
come up here for anyway?

I-- I don't know. I-- I'm a little shaky.

I just needed somebody
to talk to, I guess.

Well, if you're looking
for a surrogate crutch

to get you through the afternoon, J.D.,

you came to the wrong place.

Oh, you're really something,
you know that?

I come up here for a little support,
a little understanding. What do I get?

-I could've done better with a $20 hooker!
-(crashing)

You've always had more than your share
of character defects, J.D.

But up till now,
self-pity wasn't one of them.

Oh, yeah.

I hate to say it, but you were
a hell of a lot more attractive

when you were drinking.

(door closes)

(indistinct sports broadcast)

-What do you want?
-Sergeant Goldblume, Mr. Sosa.

-I was here--
-Yeah, I remember. So what?

Those safety violations
I noticed on my first visit,

they haven't been fixed.

I thought I'd stop by and remind you.

Get out of here.

Not this time, Mr. Sosa.

Your sweaty little reign
of terror is over.

I'm the law in this building now.

(furniture scrapes)

What the hell is that
supposed to mean, huh?

-I'm knockin' you off your throne.
-Oh.

You've intimidated these people
long enough.

Up till now the law's been on your side,
because it's been slack and indifferent.

That's changed.

Now, you either fix this hellhole,

make it a safe and decent place
to live in,

or I'm gonna see you get more trouble
than you can cause.

(chuckling)

Oh, I'm-- I'm shakin' in my boots,
Jew boy!

(laughs)

You're gonna have to do better than that!
(laughs)

(growling)

Now, you ain't got a legal leg
to stand on. You know that.

That's why you brung along these types.

All you can do is try and scare me, see?
But I don't scare!

What's the fist for, Sosa?
You can't hit me.

I'm under 65. Nobody's holding my arms.

A man like you doesn't have the guts
to start a fair fight.

You little punk! I'll shut--

You saw it. Assaulting a police officer.

(grunts)

Hey, you can't do this to me!
I got lawyers!

All right.

You know what it's like
in custody lockup, Sosa?

People living in each other's stink.

Food that leaves your gut aching
after every meal.

The lice are so bad they crawl
under your bedsores and lay their eggs.

And you think you're tough?

You haven't seen anything
till you've snuggled up

with an 18-year-old sociopath...

who's just killed his mother
with a tire iron.

Assaulting an officer is only for openers.

I swear to you, Sosa, if you hurt these
people one more time, I'll put you there.

Doesn't matter what the charge is.
I'll find one.

And when you're out,
I'll come after you again.

You don't want that, Sosa.

Take it from an angry cop.
You'd rather die first.

(tires screech)

I already got a meeting Friday night.

Seems this nasty fox, name of Trudy,
is looking for charter membership

in the Theodore Carter Official Fan Club.

How about you, Jack?
You backing out on the coalition too?

JACK: Well, I kind of I promised my old
lady we'd go to a movie on Friday night.

BOBBY: Oh, yeah?

Ah, but what the hell?
I'll try and make it, okay?

Conference room, 8:00.

I know exactly
what you're going through, Bobby.

I've faced similar resistance
as the assistant secretary general of WAD.

-WAD?
-Women Against Discrimination.

And now that you've been elected
the new vice president of the BOC,

I guess you can say we're soul mates, huh?

Yeah, I guess we could, Mrs. Furillo.

Of course, our politics
are slightly different than the coalition.

But in terms of political intent,
well, I don't have to tell you

how much women and Blacks have in common.

The thing I really wanted to say to you,
though, was

I think it's absolutely wonderful
what you're doing for your people.

-Thanks, Mrs. Furillo.
-Call me Fay.

-Fay, it was nice talking to you.
-And believe me,

if there was ever a place that needs you,

it's this white, male-dominated dump.

I mean, turn around and look. How many
Black or female faces do you see?

-MAN: Right this way.
-WOMAN: Okay.

-Come on. Right over here.
-Ease up, jack!

-Not nearly enough.
-Right. Which is one of the reasons

why we're staging our first sit-in
at Chief Daniels's office on Wednesday.

-A sit-in? Chief Daniels's office?
-Right.

Well, we're still in negotiations
with his top aide on quota hiring.

But, uh, if all else fails, film at 11:00.

Listen, whatever you do, don't tell Frank.

He would absolutely kill me.

Bobby, you know what we ought to do?

We ought to get together for dinner
some night and rap.

(chuckles) Yeah, I'd like that, Fay.

Bobby!

I'm not asking you for a date.
I just thought...

we could have a really meaningful
interaction.

-Recruiting drive, Fay?
-No, Frank.

Actually, what I was doing is,
I came by to ask you

if you can take Frank Jr.
on Wednesday evening.

There's a good chance
I'm gonna be tied up.

Uh, gee, I'm not sure.

I-- I'll have to check my calendar.

I mean it. Call me.

(indistinct chattering)

(siren wailing)

I almost bought it out there, Bobby.

If you weren't so wrapped up in playing
V.P. for that damn coalition of yours,

none of this would've happened.

What are you talking about?

I'm talking
about eight inches of razor across my arm.

I'm talking about 16 stitches
in County General.

A foot more to the right, and they'd be
putting a sheet over me right about now.

-Man, are you all right?
-Yeah. I'll live, no thanks to you.

You know, I don't understand you, Bobby.

For the life of me, I don't understand

how some half-baked political gig

could be more important to you
than your own partner.

Come on, Renko.

We've already been through this, Renko.

You know the situation I'm in
with the coalition right now and all.

Save it for the brothers, brother.

There are some things
that I've committed myself to, Renko.

And if you can't handle that,
then it's just too damn bad.

Hey, I'll be back with you
out on the street in two lousy days.

You sure about that, man?

You're gettin' so one-tone lately,

I was wondering if you might not prefer
a Black partner next time out.

Hey, well, maybe that wouldn't be
such a bad idea!

Tracy says that they're almost done
with the tests.

-What happened to your arm?
-Line of duty, Pop.

So you must be pretty happy
about getting out of here.

What did they say, the doctors?

Haven't said nothing yet.

Well, do you need anything? Money?

Union pays for everything.

Worked my whole life for a hospital bed.

(chuckles)
Don't say somethin' like that, Pop.

You're gonna be okay. You'll see.
You're a strong old guy.

You know, I, uh, I drove by the...

old house on Dutch Street yesterday.

Been a couple of years.
You know, they have a two-car garage

where the old wishing well used to be.

Then I sort of got to thinking about,
well, about Mama,

and about the way that

we all sort of lost each other
when she died.

I got to thinking about those...

barbecues we used to have
every Sunday afternoon.

Remember that? You in that old apron
with those crossed chicken bones.

Remember that?

Oh, Pop, that was about the best house
a kid could grow up in.

So me and Tracy, we were thinking
that we'd like to do it again,

have a barbecue,
all of us together, this Sunday.

-That sound good to you? This Sunday?
-That's fine.

Uh, we could do it Saturday
if you want to.

Fine.

-Whatever day's good for you.
-I don't care.

(chuckles) Come on, Pop.
Your kids want to see you.

Doesn't that mean anything to you?

-I remember--
-Remember?

Remember who's the old man here.

Barbecues always ended in a fight.

I threw a ham at your mother once.
Nobody liked the barbecues. I hated 'em.

Well, you're gonna come anyway.

And there's gonna be
potato salad and coleslaw,

and you're gonna sit at a table
and talk to your kids, damn it.

This has been going on all my life.
I don't think you gave six smiles to me!

Now, I know I didn't grow up
to be what you wanted.

But you never did tell me what you wanted!

It's time for my nap.

I'm sorry, Daddy.

I'm stupid.

I gotta get my nap, Doctor says.

(pounding)

Hey, good buddy. Okay.

-You wanna wire me for some AM/FM?
-He's drunk.

-I'm ready.
-What'd you do?

-That's it. I'm pulling the plug.
-No, man. We're set to go.

Your partner, the trigger on this
operation, is falling on his face.

-Hey, I'm ready. I'm here.
-Give me the wire. I'll do it.

And get your head blown off?
Holland doesn't know you.

He'll recognize the money!

What are you guys trying to do?
I can handle this!

Will you shut up, J.D., damn it! Shut up!

Sanchez, stay off this line
till you hear from me. Understand?

Let me do it, man. Let me do it, Captain.

I can talk my way in.
I know the mentality. It's no big deal.

-Yeah, no big deal.
-No, no big deal.

Do you wanna be the cop
who missed the bust

on a four-star dust lab
because of a lousy drunk here?

Huh? Huh?

You bring down LaRue, you bring down
yourself and everybody here.

Man, listen...

-All right, Neal. Put on a wire.
-Uh--

(machinery whirring)

-What do you want?
-Hey, man, John sent me.

Got the money. Fifty grand.

I don't know what you're talking about.

The white dude's out. Politics, babe.
I'm the man now.

-You think I'm stupid?
-That's your problem.

I'm holding $50,000
that's gotta move tonight.

And if you don't want it just say so,
and I'm gone, my man.

-I don't want it.
-(clicks tongue) You got it.

Hold it.

You try anything and I'll kill ya.

Straight ahead.

(indistinct chattering)

Lay the money down on the table.
We can have a count.

Okay, my man.
Let me check out the stuff first.

Right over this way.

Straight ahead. You've got four boxes,

12 bottles to the box.

Yours. (grunts)

-(groans)
-(glass shatters)

Or maybe I'll just keep it, smart stuff,
and the money too.

-Police officers! Open up!
-Police! Drop the gun!

(clamoring)

(static on police radio)

-Listen, Captain...
-No, no, you listen.

If you think I'm gonna stonewall
for that jerk, well, you're wrong.

Neal. I-- I'm sorry, man.

Look, I don't wanna see you
for a while, J.D.

Hey, hey, hey, Neal. Come on.

You can put this in your car.
The meeting is Friday, 8:00,

at the main conference hall, Division.

I've been watching you hit on all
the Uncle Chocolates around town,

and doing a shuck on my types.

So I just dropped by
to give you attitude you missed.

I'll get back to you.

You want to contribute
to the coalition, Vernon?

Not really. See, I'm gonna split it
like a chicken, and you too.

You know what a job action is?

That's when the employees put on the skids
and do everything by the book.

See, nothing gets done.

Half the Black officers on this force
are ready to pull a job action

if that's what we have to do
to get parity in this department.

See, I'm gonna show you
what real power can do.

Yeah, you're a power junkie,
aren't you, Vernon?

Doesn't matter what the issues are,

so long as you got somebody to jump
when you say so.

The point is, my friend,
I have taken a personal dislike of you.

You got no class, no brains,
you got no guts, and you got no soul.

The worst kind of Black man is one
who dumps on his people, and that's you.

All right, all right! All right.
Break this up. What's going on here?

Nothin'.

WOMAN (on TV):
Wilbur Harmon was released today

on what the district attorney's office
is calling a "procedural impropriety."

Details of the impropriety
were not disclosed.

Harmon was arrested last Tuesday

in connection with the shooting death
of attorney Pamela Gilliam...

-Are you going to watch him?
-...and was being held

in County Correctional Facility

for four days pending arraignment
this afternoon.

We don't have the people.

I guess the thing to do now
is just put it out of my mind.

You can drive yourself crazy
thinking about these things.

Joyce, sooner or later
these guys slip up. You know that.

You mean we'll get him
when he kills someone else, maybe.

CALLETANO: Frank, they are back.

I'm sorry. Excuse me.

(indistinct chatter)

-Jerry.
-All done, Frank.

Half a ton of chemicals and equipment,
and, uh, some guns too.

Any problems?

FUCHS: Textbook operation. In and out.

-Good work, Neal.
-Thanks, Captain.

You, especially, J.D. Congratulations.

Just stealing my paycheck, Captain.

(closing theme playing)