All language subtitles for Hill.Street.Blues.S03E09.A.Hair.of.the.Dog.720p.WEB-DL.AAC2.0.H.264-squalor_prob3_track3_[und]

NARRATOR:
Coming tonight on Hill Street Blues...

I want you to pull him up.

Did you ever do an autopsy
on a three-week-old stiff?

-Took him right out of the limousine.
-Took who?

-They took the governor?
-Not the governor, Ray. Lamont.

Hey, Furillo, I get the impression

you're implying gang involvement
in this affair.

I'm not afraid, Mick.

What are you talkin' about?

Mick, I wanna be your snitch.

To the prettiest lady that ever graced
this sorry side of the tracks.

Here's to slumming with the city's finest.

(laughs) You're a real pistol, lady.

What's so funny?

I might have implied that he had...

an unnaturally close relationship
with his mother.

ESTERHAUS: Item 12,
as regards the sweet bird of youth,

which graces our communion this a.m.
in the persons

of six of the Metropolitan
Police Academy's finest Fall graduates.

-MAN: Whoopee.
-If memory serves, Pete Dorsey.

Pete, will you wave or something?

-MAN: Hey, Pete can wave.
-MAN 2: Hey, hey.

Robin Tataglia.

(murmuring)

Martin Froman.

John Cooper.

Tom Hernandez.
Tom, you go by "Tom" or "Tomás"?

Tom's fine.

Uh, Nathaniel Crawford.
"Nate"? "Nat"? What?

-Nate, I guess.
-You got it.

People, let's have
a warm round of greetings

for these cherubic
new denizens of our swamp.

(chattering)

All rookies will temporarily
be assigned Dekker foot patrol

until Division figures out

how to integrate this year's bumper crop

into regular RMP units.

I'm already integrated.

That's right. I'm your daddy.

ESTERHAUS: There'll be telephonic
check-in each 45 minutes,

but I trust that more
experienced street personnel

will be liberally forthcoming
with aid and succor.

(chattering, laughing)

Item 13,

Governor and Mrs. Lucas Sandler

will be dedicating the new Von Steuben
unemployment office

at 10:00 a.m. this morning.

Prior to said christening,
the governor's party plans

-a whistle-stop at this precinct house.
-(groaning)

I urge you all to refrain
from the sort of unfortunate behavior

which marred His Honor's
on his last visit here in '73,

when one veteran officer felt impelled...

by reasons unknown,
to present the governor

with the miracle of the moon at midday.

(laughing, chattering)

I might append a similar
cautionary note...

vis-à-vis the going-away party
this evening

of Patrolman Anthony Tisa.

Captain Furillo
and I are urgently concerned

that, uh, behavior remain decorous
as this coed affair.

Moreover,
word from the Club Como management

is that panty hose in the plumbing system

-will no longer be tolerated.
-(chattering)

-Who are you lookin' at?
-Item last.

Two more sightings yesterday
of the Phantom.

Snatching a half dozen cantaloupes
from a Korean green grocer on Hudson,

harassing a meter maid
working the projects north of 133rd.

For our newcomers, the Phantom of the Hill

appears to be a guy
living in the sewer system, 6'5" or 6",

heavily bearded and scarred,
perhaps drastically deformed,

dressed in rags or worse,

incapable of speech
in the Mother Tongue or otherwise.

He bears a manifest
and virulent hatred for police.

And the standing reward for his collar
is three months without weekends.

(murmuring)

All right, that's it. Let's roll,
and let's be very careful out there.

(chattering)

Oh, no.

(indistinct chatter)

-Hey, Renko. Renko.
-What?

-You ever actually seen this guy?
-Who?

You know, this weirdo
down in the sewer system.

You mean the Phantom.
Well, I can't exactly say, Dorsey,

although we did spot this huge,
slimy dude

rummaging the dumpsters

-over near Elmwood last--
-Yeah, he ducked into a manhole

-before we could see him.
-That could be him.

Belker.

"Mean Sheets."

Is that the one
with all the hairbrush spanking?

-(growls)
-(Hill giggling)

Move. Move!

Bobby. I don't know what to wear tonight.

-Miniskirt. Miniskirt's compulsory.
-Uh--

-Name.
-Curtis.

Curtis what?

Curtis Interuptus.

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)

(siren blaring)

Do you believe it?
Guy eats bran muffins for breakfast.

I'm coming out of the john.

He's ordering six bran muffins
and a double stewed prunes.

Hey, even arm busters
got occasional problems

with regularity, my man, you know?

-Excuse me, Detective. Could I ask--
-Get out of here, man

-Just keep walkin' and get out of here.
-Right.

Believe it? First hour on the beat,

kid's doing his best
to blow a murder one collar.

Mm. Hey, here comes Edwards.

Bubba, your behind is mine.

(horn honks)

(horn honking)

(shouting)

Freeze! You're under arrest.

Hit the wall, chump!

-Read him his rights, baby.
-Shit!

(panting) You have the right
to remain silent.

-Come on, man.
-You have the right to an attorney.

And I'll tell you what, Jack--

-We'll read you the rest in the car.
-Hey, nice work, you guys.

Thanks a lot. Welcome to the Hill.

Come on, let's move it out of here.

Hey, are you okay? You cut your lip.

How'd you like to suck the toxins out?

What are you doing with my car?
Get out of here.

-What'd you call me, man?
-I'll call you anything I want.

(both shouting)

-Come on, you guys, break it up.
-MAN: Break it up!

(shouting)

-(clamoring)
-(siren blaring)

Hey, you got a problem, lady?

(shouting)

And you got a big mouth, Jack.

-You feel that?
-Yeah, yeah, I feel it.

RENKO: All right, gimme the keys
right now. License, registration.

-Get out the car. Gimme a license.
-(indistinct)

-You assume the position.
-Quiet down. Quiet down.

Hey, you too, lady. Just quiet down.

Hey, pal, you wanna go in, huh?

-Just knock it off.
-All right, that's pretty good.

Now, first thing, when you get kids
like this you gotta look for a piece.

Second of all, when you separate 'em,
you gotta really mean it.

Third of all, don't be afraid
to call for backups,

even if it's just a fender bender,
like this.

Okay, I'm gonna talk
to these kids now. You watch me.

Uh, I think you got
your carbon reversed there, buddy.

(indistinct chattering)

Governor, our captain

of the most crime-ridden
precinct in the state, Frank Furillo.

-Frank, the governor.
-Frank.

-How do you do?
-Mrs. Sandler.

-My pleasure.
-And... Lamont.

SANDLER: Your fight is my fight, Captain.

We stand shoulder-to-shoulder
on the battleground of urban blight.

And a battleground it is, Governor.

Lieutenant Hunter, EAT.

Why, just last week my men and I

traded cartridges
with a cadre of Hispanic 2-11 artists

in a two-hour project standoff

that was right out of Teddy's
little number on San Juan Hill.

-We--
-We're three minutes behind, sir.

Well, excuse me, Captain.
Appreciate the input, Officer.

-Lieutenant.
-DANIELS: This way, Governor.

Mrs. Sandler.

(clamoring)

Don't you just love pinstripes?

You have bad manners, man! Behave!

ESTERHAUS: John, John, John.
Not now, not now.

The governor of the state, John.

-Oh, sorry, Sarge.
-I'll go pull the paperwork, babe.

Yeah.

In there. In there.

WOMAN: Let's go, let's go.

Portland.

I did write it down, Ma.

On a piece of paper.

I remember where it is, Ma.
I was just there yesterday.

I'll be there as soon as I can after work.

As soon as I can. As soon as I can!

Goodbye.

What are you doin' here?

-How's your dad?
-He's lousy.

He's in a home.

-Oh.
-Eh!

What's up? How's the new job?

Michael, I have never seen
such a cesspool of criminal activity.

I warned you. Didn't I warn you?

You stay out of trouble up there.

Well, that's what I wanted
to discuss with you.

What?

I overhear things,
and I could certainly use the extra money.

What are you talkin' about?

Mick, I wanna be your snitch.

(chuckles)

Come on, get out of here.
I got paperwork to do.

I'm serious. I want us to work together.

And I find law enforcement
terribly exciting.

"Terribly exciting," huh?

You see that gorilla in there?

-(indistinct)
-He just got arrested

for breaking both a guy's legs
and then garroting him to death.

My...

He does have a certain...
ruthless quality.

Mm-hmm.

The guy he did all that to was a snitch.

That exciting enough for you?

I'm not afraid, Mick.

And I know about a holdup.

I heard a guy talking about it
at the bar this morning.

-Where? When?
-Sometime this afternoon.

A pawn shop on Jefferson at 143rd.

-Just the one guy?
-I think so.

I'm not gonna pay you for this.
You understand?

If it pans out, later maybe we can talk.

Oh, Mick!

Oh, my, Michael.
Gentlemen Prefer Leather?

That's evidence, hair ball.

(growling)

Excuse me, Captain.

We picked up the suspect
in the Casteneda homicide.

Good. Good work, Neal.

-Everything in order on the bust?
-It seems so.

Autopsy report's not in the file,

but we'll run by the coroner's office
and pick up a copy.

Do yourself a favor,
see Nydorf personally.

MAN: Upper duodendum
contains whitish fluid,

greenish-yellow bile
flows freely from orifice of common bile.

Pancreas pale.

Liver normal... with a certain

gray cirrhotic charm. (chuckles)

Found this joker in a subway john

with a quart of industrial-strength
drain cleaner down his pipes.

Hey, it's the holiday season.

Let the record indicate
that Detective LaRue

is looking a little green
around the gills.

What can I do for you, guys?

We never got an autopsy report
on that Casteneda homicide last month.

-What's a Casteneda?
-LARUE: Ramon, T.

October the 17th.
Strangulation. DOA, Mercy.

Go pull it for 'em, will you, Radley?

Just be a minute, guys.
Make yourself at home.

Stomach distended--

Contains about...

150 c.c.'s of a milky fluid...

somewhat of the consistency
of my wife's béarnaise sauce. (chuckles)

MAN: Is deli okay for you today, sir?

Yeah. Get me a pastrami on rye,

side of horse radish, dill pickle,

apple pie, hold the mold, and a root beer.

Two chili dogs, no onions,
an order of fries and an orangeade.

Hmm.

Listen, Kosich, uh--

Forget that pastrami.

Get me three chili dogs,
everything on 'em.

You guys want a sandwich or something?

No thanks, Wally.

I had a big breakfast, man. Thanks.

Oh, do you believe this?

This tape isn't even rollin'. Gradsky!

I spent the better part of an hour
talkin' into a dead battery here.

-I'm sure we got the digestive tract, sir.
-Kosich, will you get some batteries

for this damn thing?

I'll have to take it out of petty cash.

Just buy the damn thing.

-(whispers)
-What do you mean, you can't find 'em?

Check the pending file. Check with Sylvia!

Uh...

It'll be all right, guys. I'll...

I'll pull it for you myself.
Get it to you in a day or two.

Take notes, will you, Gradsky?

Uh, gall bladder... somewhat ropey fluid--

Hey, look, Wally.

We got a hot suspect we're
pulling into interrogation

in less than two hours.

Not to mention having to handle

-an A.D.A. and the guy's attorney.
-I sa-- I said I'd get it to you.

-All right?
-We need it now.

You need...

You need.

Well, let me tell you what I need.

Five extra pathologists, for starters,

a half dozen scrubbers,

ten hours extra a day in the work day...

and a budget that isn't some kind
of in-house municipal joke.

That's what I need.

I got corpses stacked up here
till next Easter.

I haven't had a lousy vacation
since Nixon was in office.

And the last thing I need is a couple
of damn pushy mid-level grunts

comin' in here
tellin' me how to do my job.

Now, then.

Gall bladder...

is filled with a somewhat ropey,

but otherwise clear, dark green fluid.

So... what makes you so sure
I'm gonna get hit today, huh?

I'm not sure.

You don't even know if this snitch
of yours is on the level.

No, I don't.

Hey, that lunch of yours
is gonna drive my business away.

Look, Murray.

Why don't I just take a hike,

and when this creep shows up,
you deal with him?

Hey, I ain't afraid of no stickup.

-Yeah. I been held up...
-(doorbell tinkles)

...more than any guy on this entire block.

Cheese it, Murray.

How ya doin'? What do you say?
What can we do for you today?

Hey, man, how about this
little thing right here?

Shoot him, Belker! Blow him away!

(sniffs) Murray, come here.

All right. As soon as the game's over?

Right. Bye. (laughs)

COFFEY: What's up?

Oh, nothing.

I just got a date for Tisa's party tonight

with a guy who plays basketball
against the Harlem Globetrotters.

He's a loser.

What do you mean?
You never even met the guy.

He's a loser.

You know, I hate it when you do this.

You always do this.
The guy is only in town for three days.

Paula went to all the trouble
to get me a date,

and you gotta start in on him right away.

I'm just stating fact, Luce.

Anybody who plays
against the Trotters... losers.

Hi.

-Where did you find it?
-At the foot of the bed--

under two sheets and an electric blanket.

Funny how things disappear
when you're having a good time.

I see you pulled the Edwards case.

It appears from this arrest report
I've got my work cut out for me.

We have everything we need.
We can go to trial next week.

There's nothing worse
than a gloating Italian.

MAN: 1042 Elmwood Avenue.

Apartment 22.

DAVENPORT: Hmm.

Apartment number again?

Twenty-two.

Present occupation?

Starting quarterback
for the Atlanta Falcons.

Let's just skip the preliminaries
and get down to basics.

-Now what kind of deal can you cut for me?
-Mr. Edwards--

Don't "Mr. Edwards" me, P.D.

Now, you can't cut me a deal,

I'll find me a real lawyer who can.

There's no point in discussing a deal
at this time

if we can even circumstantially establish
your innocence in the matter.

Well, good luck, lady.

Shall I interpret that
as an admission of guilt?

What difference does it make?

It makes a big difference
in how I approach your defense.

Of course, if you're not entirely
comfortable discussing it at this time...

I'm plenty comfortable.

-Did you do it?
-No.

No, I didn't.

As a matter of fact,
I was in El Salvador that week...

doing some charity work for the Red Cross.

Mr. Edwards, I'm not in the mood today

for sarcastic, adolescent bullying

from someone who ought
to be thankful I'm trying to help him.

I'll have you reassigned.

Hey, lady. Wait.

While you're at it, Ray,
get me A.D.A. Bernstein.

Got a real potential horror story
on our hands, Frank.

I told you, eight men
for crowd control is insufficient.

That's just as much
your responsibility, Anderson.

I never recommended a visit
to this precinct in the first place, sir.

Went down 20 minutes ago

at the governor's Dekker Avenue
whistle-stop.

-Took him right out of the limousine.
-For God's sake, man.

-Do you mind?
-Took who?

-They took the governor?
-Not the governor, Ray, Lamont.

-Lamont?
-Somebody took the governor's wife's dog?

Read my lips, Frank.

She became absolutely hysterical
when she found out.

Had to be sedated right in front
of the Channel 10 minicam.

Now, we're gonna have to mobilize
on this one, and I mean fast.

I don't need to tell you the crisis
of confidence we'll be facing

when it gets out that the largest
metro squad in the entire state

can't even insure the basic human rights
of a nine-pound Lhasa Apso.

Anderson here from the governor's office
is gonna keep a lid on the media flow.

LaRue? Washington?
Get in here. You too, Goldstein.

-Goldblume.
-First off, we'll need a door-to-door

in the vicinity of the snatch.

Howard. Phil.

And a couple of your desk boys
to handle the phone calls.

What phone calls?

The governor has approved
a $1,000 reward

for Lamont's safe return.

It's going out over the local airwaves
within the hour.

-Who's Lamont?
-You're gonna use precinct phones

for some lost dog reward?

Give me a little credit, Frank.

We'll just run a couple of extensions
off of your private line.

Now. We'll need 12 uniforms
for a perimeter search, Phil.

Eight EATers, Howard. Not a man less.

You just hold on a minute.

I have three homicide investigations
in the works, five rapes,

several dozen assaults,
and miscellaneous other felonies

and a continuing incoming tally
of all of the above,

and you expect me

to devote fully one-third
of my active day shift

to some overbred lapdog?

(sighs) We're not talking dog, Frank.

We're talking image,
and image-wise, like it or not,

this overbred lapdog's
got a higher gubernatorial profile

than the state bird,
whatever the hell it is.

Uh, swallow, I believe, Chief.

-Peregrine falcon. Falcon peregrine?
-(phone rings)

Hello? Just a minute, please.

Well, image-wise, how do you suppose
the electorate of this state

is gonna take such gross expenditure?

Got a handle on it, Frank.

-Frank, line six.
-Not now, Ray.

In addition, men,
I'm authorizing overtime funds

for all necessary personnel
for as long as this takes.

Up to 20 grand, let's say.

Frank, I think you might want
to take this call.

-Furillo.
-And I swear, Anderson,

if these figures leak out
to those local media flacks,

it's gonna be your butt
on the waffle iron...

-right alongside mine.
-Yeah, Vince, what?

Sidebar stories only, Chief.
Human interest.

-No stats on appropriations.
-Right. I understand.

Yeah. Sure.

All right, men, let's get to it.

-Judas Priest. The man can't be serious.
-You heard him.

I'll be back in an hour, Phil.

Uh, Captain? About the Casteneda homicide.

It seems they can't locate
the autopsy report down at the C.O.'s.

It's a regular three-ring circus
down there, Captain.

Nydorf practically blew a gasket
when we pressed him for it.

I'm on my way downtown anyway.

I'll pick it up on the way back.

Uh, Francis, aside from the obvious
canine situation,

-is everything all right?
-(sighs) Yeah. Just great, Phil.

Fay got herself thrown into jail
down at traffic court.

-Judge is holding her in contempt.
-Oh.

Captain Furillo. Thank you.

FAY: Frank, before you say anything,

I have never been treated
so rudely in my whole life.

-The arrogance, the open hostility.
-What did you do?

Me? Nothing.

I just came down to court to plead
my innocence, like an American citizen.

And got yourself thrown
into jail on account of a traffic ticket?

You must have done something
out of the ordinary.

-Said something?
-Sure.

If you count exercising
your free speech

in this supposedly free country
something out of the ordinary.

-What did you call him, Fay?
-Frank, he kept interrupting me.

(stammers) He wouldn't look
at my pictures.

-So you...
-Well, I might have implied

that he had an unnaturally
close relationship with his mother.

Well, can you blame me? I was upset.

Court is gonna close in a couple of hours.

If you don't apologize right now,

you're gonna be stuck
in there until tomorrow morning.

-Well, bail me out.
-No.

Contempt of court is not bailable.

You're in until you apologize.

Well, thank you very much, mister.

Then I'm gonna stay right here.

I'm not without internal resources, Frank.

I'll write an article...

about the abuses of judicial power.

I-I'll go on a hunger strike.

I'm not gonna argue the possible
salutary effects of a hunger strike.

-Are you saying I'm overweight?
-I'm simply say--

Fay, I don't have time for this.

If you want to play Joan of Arc

on account of a traffic ticket,
be my guest,

but I'm gonna take Frank Jr. home with me,

and you can stay in here until you rot.

How about I come over to your cell
and keep you company, sweet pea?

Frank!

Frank!

-What do you think of the captain?
-He's okay.

Seems like a real straight arrow, though.

-At least he knew our names.
-(chuckles) That was really nice,

Sergeant Esterhaus asking us
what we like to be called.

Esterhaus-- He looks like
he must have been a real tough one.

Looks like he's still tough.

Do you really think
we should go to that party tonight?

-Sure.
-I mean, do you think

they were just trying to be polite?

Aw, come on. We're gonna be working
with these guys.

-They invited us. I mean--
-MAN: Police! Hey, police!

Over here, quick!
He's beating up my brother, man.

Hey! He's beating up my brother.

Come back here. My brother's bad.

-(blues plays on jukebox)
-(clamoring)

All right, break it up! Police. Come on!

You wanna butt in? You wanna take my--

-(snarls)
-Come on! Come on, Crawford!

-Crawford, come on, man.
-Come on, move back.

Move back! Move back!

Come on, break it up!

(shouting)

-(shouting)
-(snarling)

Crawford! Come on, man! Do something.

Come on, get off him. Get off him.

Crawford!

MAN: The bartender.

You're a great guy, Officer,
the way you help your buddy out.

Mrs. Furillo?

Do you have something that you wish
to say to this court?

No.

Approach the bench, Mrs. Furillo.

I've been a traffic court judge
for slightly more than seven months now,

and this is the first time
the need has arisen

to incarcerate a citizen.

Well, maybe it's the first time

that a citizen has ever stood up to you.

Mrs. Furillo, if you continue
to behave before this court--

You know, I'll bet you're like this
at home, aren't you?

You wanna know what's wrong with you?

You don't know how to back down
or admit you're wrong.

It's a way to lose a marriage, mister.

Mrs. Furillo, aside from the fact

that you have mistaken
my present marital condition,

may I remind you that you have
already spent some time in the clink,

-and I'd be more than--
-See?

Well, let me tell you something, mister.

I have a case here.

I have facts, I have pictures
and I know what I know.

Now, if I have to go to jail,
I'll go to jail,

but I am not gonna grovel around here

-just because you're some--
-(chuckling)

-(laughing)
-What's so funny?

You are. You're a real pistol, lady.

(laughter continues)

(clears throat)

(laughing) I'm sorry.

(clears throat)

Mrs. Furillo-- (laughs)

We're both very tired,

and it's late and, uh--

Well, anybody that's willing
to spend a week in jail...

-A week?
-...must either be a glutton

for punishment or very sure
of the rightness of her position, so...

What have you got?

Well--

I was on my way home from the supermarket,

completely minding my own business,

when some jack-booted highway patrol jerk
on his fascist motorcycle

hauled me over for allegedly

not making a left-hand turn
in a mandatory left-hand turn lane.

This is Officer Bruzinsky,
the arresting officer.

Well, wait a minute.
I got a better one than that. Here.

What's the name of that, uh,
stiff again, Frank?

Casteneda. Ramon Casteneda.

Casteneda. Casteneda.

Casteneda.

Casteneda.

We never sent you an autopsy report.

Sylvia!

Sylvia.

Can you believe this place, Frank? Sylvia!

Woman's been here almost
as long as I have. She's worthless.

You know, in 1972, we had
an operating budget of 1.2 million.

Ten years later we're operating on 1.3.

Can't get decent people anymore.

We're dying down here.

Oh, I don't know. Sylvia's all right.
She-- (chuckles)

Here.

-What's that?
-What do you think it is?

It's Noogie Fisher's ear. Remember?

We sent Teddy Jakes away for 50 years.

All we had was Noogie's ear
in the glove compartment.

You were the homicide detective.
Remember that?

Here. You wanna keep it, go ahead.

-Walt.
-Sylvia!

Wally, look. This is my situation.

We're due in court day
after tomorrow for the preliminary,

and the D.A.'s office
is really pressing me for this autopsy.

Uh--

Well, Frank... it's gotta
be around here somewhere.

I'll, uh-- I'll dig it out.

And I'll have it on your desk
at 5 o'clock today, okay?

And, uh,

Frank--

I really feel terrible about this morning.

I mean, I jumped all over your guys
for just trying to do their job.

-You tell 'em for me, would you?
-Yeah, I will.

-Five o'clock, right, Wally?
-On your desk. Promise. Okay, kid?

-I'll appreciate it.
-Okay.

-FURILLO: Ray. Ray.
-CALLETANO: Yes, Frank?

Seems the reward offer
has sparked community interest.

They emptied out the kennels.

Hey, so-so what do you think, huh?

Could this be that "A" dog
you've been looking for?

You have glued hair to his skin.

Oh, yeah, yeah.

-You think it's too much, huh?
-Yes.

No, it's, uh-- The dog's got
a skin condition, you know?

The doctor told me what to get,
but I can't afford it.

Ray, clear them all out of here,
would you?

Yo, come on. She could really

-learn to love it.
-Get out!

Come on. Come on, get out.

It's a dog-eat-dog world, pizza man.

(dogs barking)

Yeah. How much?

Where?

You have the dog with you?

Okay, listen. Who am I talking to here?

No, the governor
is not available right now.

Well, can you prove you have the dog?

Can you make him bark for me?

-I think they may have him, Frank.
-In my office.

They say they want $10,000
in old bills...

left in a phone booth at 114th
and Shattuck in one hour,

or they shoot the dog.

-No cops.
-Let's pay it.

-You've gotta be kidding.
-The hell I am.

Just keep the press away.

You're crazy if you think
this story won't leak out,

in addition to which, I'll scrub your feet

in the window of Kirby's Department Store

if any part of that cockamamie phone call
pans out.

Henry, I want the gangs
in here by 4:00 for a meeting.

Thank you for your input, Captain.

I can't afford
to have Lamont getting shot.

Hi. Can I have area code 311-555-9600.

What's this? What's this?

What are you doing to me?

I leave the shop for two minutes,

and I come back and I find you're
dealing me out of house and home.

Look at this.

Cameras. Radios. Mixers.

Somebody don't hold me up soon,
I'm gonna have to file for bankruptcy.

Murray, I got the whole schmear
for 186 bucks...

from a Cuban bookie
headed upstate on a two-to-four.

A hundred and eighty-six bucks?

That's right.

All of this? 186 bucks?

(chuckles)

You know, son,

if you ever decide to give up
this detective business,

-the pawn industry can offer you...
-(doorbell tinkles)

...a very rewarding future.

I'm gonna keep that in mind, Murray.

MURRAY: Oh, how you doing?
What can we do for you?

Thinking about pawning
my electric guitar...

if the price is right.

Well, that depends. (chuckles)

I mean, what are we talking?
A Fender? A Gretsch?

Stratocaster? Six-string, 12-string...

Twelve-gauge, Smith & Wesson,
two barrels, one trigger.

And believe me, it's in tune.
Hands on the counter, shortstop.

All the money, now.

Now, or I'll take your face off
with this thing.

(snarling)

You want cream
with your coffee, dog breath?

-What was that again? "Lasso apso"?
-(laughter)

-Or was it "Lassie Apsy"?
-(laughter)

Say that for me four times, Furillo.

-"Lamu aspo."
-No, man. It's "lapu zapu."

Lhasa Apso is the breed.

All we want is your cooperation.

Uh, what is the dog's name? Jerry?

-Sid?
-Dog's name is Lamont.

-Say what?
-Hey, Furillo.

How am I gonna tell my people "Lamont"?

Does the mutt have a nickname?

-I got a brother named Lamont.
-Yeah!

-Yeah.
-Yeah, I know about your brother.

-Yeah.
-We all know about Lamont.

-What?
-Hey. Hey.

Oh, what. What.

Guys, this is a very important animal
we're talking about.

This animal is a token of friendship
from the people of Tibet.

(clears throat) I put
to you two scenarios, gentlemen.

In the first,
a civic-minded citizen or citizens

step forward, no questions asked,
and receive a $1,000 reward.

In the second, a $10,000 ransom
is presented to that same citizen,

who then gets three years upstate
as a bonus.

I get the impression
you're implying gang involvement

in this canine affair.

I'm simply implying, Jesus,
that whoever stole that animal

will be inordinately punished,

considering the vast resources
we've devoted to this problem.

I do grudgingly admire your initiative,
not to mention your sense of humor.

That abortive little
phone booth caper, okay,

but I think it's time
to talk turkey, don't you?

Or, as the case seems to be, canine.

If anybody knows anything,

I want to hear about it
by 9 o'clock tomorrow.

ANDERSON: Please, guys,
try to keep perspective.

In one sense, Lamont is Mrs. Sandler's,
but in a larger sense,

-he belongs to all of us.
-Yeah?

What part of this dog
belongs to Mr. Martinez?

-(murmuring)
-MAN: I'll see you outside.

-Outside. Outside.
-(chattering)

Anything you want.

BELKER: Captain?

I wanna give Eddie Gregg 50 bucks.

I think it's cheap dollars, Captain.

He's the one that gave me
the pawnshop bust this afternoon.

CALLETANO: Hold on just a second.

Thank you, Captain.

Frank, the D.A.'s office on line four.

Did we get the autopsy report from Nydorf?

-Yes. It just came in.
-Oh. Great. Thank you.

Yeah, Irwin. Uh-huh. I just got it.

I'm just looking at it, Irwin.

Well, I can have somebody
bring it down to you. Yeah. Sure.

No. Yeah-- Irwin, listen.
I've got a crisis on my hands here.

I'll-I'll call you back, all right?

I'll call you back, Irwin.

Yeah.

Here's your 50 bucks. Now get lost.

When will I see you again?

How should I know?

Mick, I've got something
really big for you.

We could have a late supper
after I get off work and talk about it.

Look, hair bag, you're gonna be a snitch,

you never want to be seen
in public with me.

And you especially
never want to be seen up here.

Then how do I get in touch with you?

Call me at this number.

Wait a minute.

You could call me at my home phone too.

I'll keep this in strictest confidence,
Mick.

When can we meet?

I don't know. Maybe tomorrow.

-Tell me where.
-I don't know. Someplace.

I don't know right now.

It's gotta be someplace, uh,
dark, out of the way--

-Oh!
-Like a parking garage, you dirt ball.

Sounds good to me, Mick.
I'll call you first thing in the a.m.

You won't regret it.

Frank, Nydorf left for the day.

You want me to try his house?

No, I think I know where I can find him.

And the mortuary guy says,
"Let me check my inventory.

I may need some mortuary blankets."

-Hey, Frank.
-Wally.

Be with you in a minute, kid.

So he leaves, goes upstairs.

He leaves the poor slob alone
with the stiff.

(laughter)

He-he's trying not to look,
but he's scared out of his tree.

And all of a sudden the stiff goes--
(blows raspberries)

And sits bolt upright.

The kid--

The kid drops his briefcase--
his sample case.

He runs out of there,
gets in his car, drives away...

and he's never been seen since.

It's a true story. Swear to God.

Wally, could I talk to you for a minute?

Oh, sure, Frank.

Come on. Let's get a table.

Excuse me.

-Hey, you want a beer?
-Oh, no, thanks.

Oh, that's right. Hey, Ace.

-MAN: Yeah, you want another one?
-Uh, and a soda.

-Yeah, I'll send it over.
-(chuckling) I don't know, Frank.

I've been cuttin' up stiffs for 35 years.

I come to bars and tell stories
about dead bodies.

You think that indicates
a certain narrowness of interest?

Uh, we have a problem, Wally.

-Uh-huh. What about?
-The autopsy.

-Uh-huh. So talk to me.
-Talk to me.

This is a mess.

If I tried to sell this
at Edwards' preliminary,

they're gonna laugh me right out of court.

Who the hell are you to question my work?

Don't try to pull the same crap with me

as you tried to pull
with my detectives this morning.

This report is indefensible,
and you know it.

The physical description is sketchy,

there's no blood workup at all...

and the diagrams are totally inadequate.

How did you do this? From memory?

You lost the originals,
and then you lost the copies,

and so you figured,
"What the hell. I'll wing it." Right?

Tell me I'm wrong.

All right, Frank.

Okay.

But you saw what a zoo that place is.

Look, you just send me your police report.

Give me 24 hours,
and I'll give you an autopsy.

Swear to God, you'll be able
to convict your mother on it.

-That's not good enough.
-Well, what then?

-I want you to pull him up.
-Oh, Frank.

-Pull him up and do it again.
-Frank...

Did you ever do an autopsy
on a three-week-old stiff?

Wally.

Wally, you used to like your work,
and you were the best.

-What happened?
-Now, don't you start with me, Frank.

I knew you when you were
a 24-year-old snot-nose

whose main area of expertise
was the inside of a shot glass,

so don't go getting your glands
in an uproar with me, kid.

Just do your job, Wally.

RENKO: I'd like to propose another toast

to the short, black-haired, brown-eyed,

graduating class from the police academy

to Sergeant Esterhaus's finest.

-¡Salud!
-WOMAN: Cheers.

-And I'd like to propose another toast--
-Hey, just rest the toast.

You rest. To the prettiest lady...

that ever graced this sorry side
of the tracks,

here's to slumming with the city's finest.

Drink up.

Come on, Teresa. Don't be a wet old rag.

I've had enough, Andy.

-What?
-I have had enough.

Well, excuse me, lady. "I've had enough."

I would have had
the Dom Perignon out here,

but my credit line's
a little short right now.

Come on, Rapunzel.
Let down your blond hair.

Let down your blond hair.

I got less hair to let down.

"I got less hair to let down."

I love you, Joe. I love you.

Coffey says this guy
used to work for the sewer department.

You know, he knows all 80 miles
of the system like the back of his hand.

Claims he goes after anything
with a badge too.

Well, makes sense,
if you heard the dude's story.

-What story is that?
-Well, back in 1978,

this married lady and midtown sergeant

were found hacked to death in a flophouse

-over in East Utica.
-Buck whole naked.

Warrants went out for the husband.

WOMAN: Oh, you mean
that guy Travis Pogrow.

-Yeah. We heard about him over in midtown.
-6'5", 285 pounds--

Disappeared without a trace. Sewer worker.

Wait, wait. And they think
this Travis Pogrow is the Phantom?

What do you think?

Give me a break.
There's no Phantom down there.

Oh, of course there ain't, Hernandez.

I got this right here
fallin' off of my skateboard.

-You mean the Phantom did that?
-This? No, no, no.

This was Marie Osmond.

This freak pulls my leg

halfway down a storm drain
on Richmond last year.

If he'd have chopped
the rest of it off at the knee...

-Is this the freeway?
-...he would've been my partner.

What was that for?

Thank you.
That was very sweet of you back there.

I got lipstick all over.

Hey. Cut it out.
What the hell is goin' on here?

Uh, this is a slightly drunken
come-on, I guess. (chuckles)

-Hmm?
-Oh...

Look, Teresa,

you're a very lovely lady,

and I like you a lot,

but, you know, Renko's my friend.

I like you a lot too.

Wait, wait. Now just cut it out.

Look, you're his girl.

Well, what if I wasn't? Hmm?

CRAWFORD: I just want to thank you
for covering for me, okay?

HERNANDEZ: I didn't cover for you.

Look. Tomorrow's gonna be different.
I know it.

I'm sorry.

I asked Esterhaus for a new partner.

-That's it. I've had it.
-What?

Don't you think I've waited long enough
for the creep?

Oh, your basketball player
hasn't shown up yet?

That is the last time I ever call a jock.

Hey, come on. Let's have a drink.

-I don't want a drink.
-Excuse me. Are you Lucy?

I'm Doug. Doug Munson.

-Oh.
-I'm sorry I'm late.

The game went double overtime.

Oh! How'd you do?

-We lost.
-Oh.

-Uh, this is my friend Joe Coffey.
-Doug Munson.

He says that you've had quite
a long losing streak.

1912 games.

I've got a table over here.

Everybody's looking.

Who's looking?

-Hmm?
-Oh, I don't know.

You know.

Then why don't we go someplace where...

nobody can look?

Okay.

And finally tonight, Ray,
on the local front,

the latest poop on the case
of the missing Lhasa Apso.

As of this hour,
no suspects have yet been collared

in the dognapping of Lamont,

the governor's wife's prize Lhasa Apso.

However, authorities
are working... rabidly...

to get a leg up on the situation.

Although there's been
an unusually tight leash

on information coming out of Hill Street,

it has been rumored that the search

for the 9 1/2 pound Tibetan lapdog

is expected to take a bite
out of the city budget

to the tune of $30,000
in overtime pay,

an expenditure that, come December,

might very well put City Hall...

in the doghouse.

-Anyone with information--
-Whatever happened to serious journalism?

Died years ago, Furillo,
at the hands of a blow dryer.

Please. I've been punished enough.

That's 555-5300--

MAN: ...though authorities concede

they very well may be barking up
the wrong tree.

WOMAN 2: ...classic case of the tail
wagging the dog.

The search for Lamont
is expected to take a chop

out of the municipal fiscal bone
in excess of $30,000.

-There's no escaping it.
-(laughs)

Thirty thousand dollars for a lapdog?

-Please--
-Mm.

Don't hound me, counselor.

(growls)

You telling me to put a muzzle on it,
Captain?

Why don't we just--

Just let...

BOTH: Sleeping dogs lie.

(laughing)

JOYCE: Oh, no...

(laughter continues)

(closing theme playing)