Original subtitles

NARRATOR: Previously on Hill Street Blues...

You're gettin' old real fast.

You're gonna make it. You're in your 53rd hour.

We want you to call Rollie Simone, Mo. Want you to sell him your paper.

I'm not settin' up Rollie Simone for no police action.

I don't know how Mo could let things get this far.

Mr. Simone, the last payment--

Neal, let's do both of us a favor, and you keep your mouth shut.

Suddenly, it was all clear to me, and I want this baby.

You owe me.

The grant proposal you submitted was for a local youth recreation program.

What's 50 lousy Gs worth of basketball and high-tops?

Don't do it, man!

I'll kill you!

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

I heard they got this typing class down at Metro JC.

Rico, that's terrific.

That satchel had over 50,000 bucks in it.

What exactly was your destination?

The Hill Street precinct station.

-Oh, no! No! -You mean the payroll?

You know, I feel awkward

not being able to bankroll any of this, Counselor.

I'll let you make it up to me in some mindlessly extravagant way.

Would you and Joe be free this evening?

I think that could be arranged.

It's a girl, Frank.

The amniocentesis, she's a perfectly healthy baby girl.

Was I a disappointment to you, Furillo?

Well, let me tell you something--

I don't live for your approval.

You done, Simone, huh?

How's that manicotti? Do you like that, huh?

How about a little red with that?

(indistinct chattering)

Item 11, another corpus delicti,

the mortal remains of local shylock Mo "the Mouse" Feldstein

were discovered during the wee hours of the night shift.

À la Buddy Jannette, Mo was minus one right hand,

the forefinger of which, upon discovery,

will presumably be pointing in the general direction

of Mr. Roland Simone.

Item 12, Detective Neal Washington

remains in post-op at Mercy Hospital this morning.

An undercover transaction with the aforementioned Roland Simone

went sour last night.

A suitcase with roughly $400,000 worth of street-value cocaine

was appropriated.

Detective Washington taking the bullet in the process,

resulting in a fractured collarbone and associated minor trauma

from which he's expected to make a complete and rapid recovery.

-(cheers) -Hastened, one would hope,

by the cards and flowers of his cohorts.

Now, all donations to which should be referenced to Detective LaRue

following this A.M.'s dispatch.

Bringing me to our last item, people,

another riveting update from the city budget office.

"With our sincerest apologies

for all concomitant and pay-related inconveniences,

this office is pleased to announce

the summary withdrawal of Councilman Langella's filibuster,

thereby accessing full approval

of the current metropolitan fiscal expenditure outline."

-Now, for those of you... -(Renko indistinct)

...whom bureaucrat-ese is not a second language,

the above loosely translates as,

"Don't spend it all in one place."

(cheering)

Hey!

Our back pay will be arriving by special courier

before the morning's out in cash.

(cheering)

Hey, hey, hey!

Let's be careful out there.

A little happy-hour action at Cole's, dinner for two at the Cloister,

a 20-buck bottle of wine.

Ooh, finally something with a cork in it, huh?

-What about you, Bob? -Restock the fridge, pay the rent.

Real Hugh Hefner, huh?

Hey, Leo.

Rico. Hey, Rico, let me take a look at you.

-Hey, so how do I look? -You look good.

Great. Yeah, I had some stomach cramps this morning,

but my sister made me some soup.

-But now you feel okay? -Oh, yeah.

Hey, every day and every way, I'm gettin' better and better.

Say, Leo, you think you could spare me off cop-tips this morning?

Why? What's up?

Well, I heard they got this typing class down at Metro JC,

you know, real career stuff.

It costs 12 bucks.

Rico, that's terrific.

Sure, we'll put the cop-tips on tape recorder.

Hey, great. It costs 12 bucks, and so far I got seven.

So far, you got 12.

Oh, hey, hey, Leo, I don't know--

I consider this an investment.

(stammering) You've been like a mother to me.

So you'll take care of me in my old age.

What's the deal here?

Hey, Rico, you're gonna make it, pal.

Yeah, maybe I will.

Maybe I will.

That's an awesome reclamation effort, James.

Fine thing you do, Leo.

Yeah, "Other Side of the Mountain, part VI."

Hey! Hey, Benedetto!

Oh, what a stroke, huh?

You set up a big meetin' then get rid of all your backups.

Why didn't I think of that?

That's not the way it was, LaRue.

Hey, man, it was tactical genius.

-You must've really thrown-- -Shove it, cupcake!

I feel just as bad as anybody!

You almost got my partner killed, you fat greaseball!

We got a date, Sal! You put it on your calendar!

WOMAN (over 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)

First thing I'm gonna do, Bobby, I'm gonna take my cash money

down to a place of public entertainment,

-spend it freely and at an alarming rate. -(laughing)

Sweep the finest and foxiest lassie on the premises off her feet

with some grandiose demonstration of my personal generosity.

Mm-hmm.

Repair to the privacy of her boudoir or mine,

and for the next 48 hours, spend it on the brink

of some hitherto uncharted plateau of physical expression.

Well, now, I think I'm gonna start off with about 15 bags of groceries.

Renko, I feel like I haven't eaten for a month.

That only goes to show you the difference between you and me, my friend.

-Yeah, the naked and the fed. -(laughs)

DISPATCH (over radio): All units, 211, corner...

Uh-oh. That's for us.

Two-two-oh-two will respond.

(siren wailing)

-You gotta help me. Please. -All right, just calm down now. Come on.

Stand over here against the car and tell us what happened.

There were two of them.

They hit me when I was coming out. I didn't even see 'em.

Sir, take it easy, please.

Now, what was the nature of your complaint, sir?

I was just getting a doughnut.

I mean, they must've known I was making this run.

They should've never given me cash.

Did they assault you when you got back in the car?

They must've been waiting for me.

That satchel had over 50,000 bucks in it.

I'm gonna be killed for this.

No, now, I wouldn't say that, sir. This sort of thing happens all the time.

Now, calm down. What exactly was your destination?

The Hill Street precinct station.

The Hill Street station?

No, no, there must be some mistake, sir.

You see, that was our destination.

-There's no mistake. -Oh, no! No!

You mean the payroll?

You mean you gave it to them just like that, you little bug?

I oughta take your head and crush it in between my hands like a grape.

Do you have any idea what you've done?

You are a miserable excuse for a human being!

Please! I already got hit once! I'm sorry!

Renko, there's nothin' we can do about it!

Oh, Lord, I am nothing.

I have no money.

I might as well just go lie down on the street and die.

Benedetto, in here, please.

-Good morning, Frank. Excuse us, please. -Chief. Sal.

Know what I found next to my coffee this morning, Frank?

Know what this is? It's a minefield.

Column one...

"Another loan shark piecemealed on the Hill."

Column three...

"A detective wounded and a suitcase of narcotics

from the Midtown property room taken off in a botched operation."

Over here...

"A leak from the medical examiner's office on a John Doe name of Sonny Crockett

held over 48 hours without releasing identification."

Small detail.

It happens to be illegal.

Not to mention installments 15 and 16 in the continuing saga of Buddy Janette.

Now, you tell me, Frank, what do we do about it?

Excuse me, Chief, if I might inject a little scenario here.

(clears throat) Mo sells his paper to Simone, okay?

The mouse seems a little anxious. Maybe Rollie's thinking.

A couple days later, Rollie picks up

we're holding Mo's leg-breaker in the morgue on a John Doe.

He figures maybe the mouse is rollin' over.

(chuckles) He'd be right. Rollie whacks him.

Now, if the mouse gave him Washington, a cop,

Rollie sets up a meet for the powder.

Hm, now, all he's gotta do is put out the word.

Ten to one, we got taken off by a couple of hot-dog freelancers,

and Simone's already traded for the soda in a separate transaction.

(laughing)

Frank, what the hell is he babbling about?

I think he means that Roland Simone is responsible

for a good half of that front page.

And what do you think?

I'm not disagreeing.

Ask me? We got enough on Simone

to put him away for conspiracy right now, Chief.

Then what are we waiting for? Let's bring him in, Frank. Let's do it.

Are we minimizing our chances

of getting him on attempted murder of Neal Washington?

A bird in the hand is priority one.

Priority two is a full-bore offensive on these other charges.

Run down every lead you've got on Feldstein, Janette,

and the Washington shooting.

Pull out the stops. Put double shifts on the phones.

We'll nail that slime with whatever sticks.

I'm releasing a statement at 2:00 that Simone's been brought in.

You better move fast, Frank, if you want to make the five o'clock news.

I want two uniforms along for the ride. Coordinate with Esterhaus.

I never had a partner hit before, Captain.

I want this chump as bad as you do.

No problems. You got my word.

(door closes)

Fascinating story in the morning paper here, Frank.

About an ex-client of mine name of Sonny Crockett

being stashed persona non persona

in the county morgue for the past two days.

Yes, that is fascinating.

Not that I was planning a memorial fund-raiser, Frank,

but any reason why I wasn't informed?

The continuing investigation of his former employer, Mo Feldstein.

You'll find that story in column one.

You're pretty good at keeping secrets.

Since I'm no longer bound by client privilege,

I'll let you in on one of my mine.

Right before Joe Coffey's grand-jury hearing,

I had a confession from Crockett in the Lynn Tatum homicide.

Coffey might like to know he's off the hook.

Why don't you go tell him?

Fair enough.

I, uh, thought we might have lunch today.

-You're on. -How's noon?

I'll make a reservation at The Galley.

I was thinking more about room service.

I hope you understand why I couldn't reveal Crockett's confession until now.

Now, this means I'm totally cleared in the Tatum death, right?

No civil liabilities, no asterisk next to my name?

I mean, it's over, right?

I'll notify the DA's office and Mrs. Tatum's attorneys

within the hour.

Miss Davenport, I mean, you don't know...

-Thank you. Thank you. -You're welcome.

What do you know? The system works after all.

Just like that, like it never happened.

Hey, Coffey, Bates, we're outta here!

I don't know what's wrong with people nowadays, ma'am.

I mean, I was just trying to do her a favor.

Mr. Dulcimer, I fail to see how taking a woman's purse

qualifies as an act of charity.

I was trying to return it to her. Don't you see?

She left it on the bus seat. She was headed out the front exit,

so I grabbed it. I ran after her.

According to Mrs. Jenkins and the driver, you ran in the wrong direction.

No, that's not true.

I went out the back door

only 'cause I was afraid the bus was gonna take off again.

I figured I would catch up with her on the street.

Your arrest report paints a slightly different picture.

That's 'cause the minute I stepped off the bus,

this lady started screaming bloody murder.

And before I could explain to her, the policeman came along...

(sighs)

I don't know what else to tell you, ma'am.

I've never been arrested for anything in my entire life.

It's true you have no outstanding warrants.

As an out-of-state resident,

there's a good chance any priors wouldn't show up yet anyway.

There aren't any priors, Miss Davenport.

I may be new to the city, ma'am, but I never thought that it was a crime

to try to help your neighbor.

Your court date's set for two o'clock, Mr. Dulcimer.

If I can persuade the ADA,

would you be willing to accept a plea bargain?

I'm sorry. I'm kind of new to this.

You enter a guilty plea in exchange for a lesser charge,

say, disorderly conduct.

I'm not-- I'm not trying to be difficult with you, ma'am.

It-it just strikes me as somehow wrong

for me to have to apologize for being innocent.

You probably get a lot of bad apples in your line of work, Miss Davenport,

but I'd really appreciate it

if you could at least try to see it my way.

(soft chuckle)

Okay, Leonard,

what do you say we run through it one more time?

(indistinct chattering)

The guy's standing there.

SIMONE: Ask him what he wants.

He's got a badge.

Cheese it, Arnie. It's the cops.

-(chuckling) -Let's go, Rollie.

-I'm eating. -When he's finished.

Oh, he wants to finish? Hey, I can understand that.

Looks pretty good. Let's see what you got there, huh?

Lunch already. Ooh, you must've been up pretty early.

Some manicotti, a little calamari, some marinara.

Ooh, just like mama used to make, huh.

You got an appointment?

We don't have to have a problem here, do we?

No, not at all, Rollie.

Only maybe you could eat a little faster, huh?

There you go! You done, huh? You done, Simone, huh?!

How's that manicotti? You like that, huh?

How about a little red with that?

I got to tell you something, Rollie, for a man of your reputation,

-your table manners are rotten! -JOE: You got him, Sal!

(chuckles) Come on.

WOMAN (over PA): Dr. Cutler, ICU stat.

-Hey, J.D. -Hey, hey, sleeping beauty awakes.

How you feelin'?

I don't know. Gonna have to take inventory.

(chuckles) Oh, hey, so it shouldn't be a total loss,

we chipped in and got you something.

Hey, that's nice.

-Think you might open it for me? -Oh, yeah, sure.

Uh, man, I was just talking to the doctor.

Yeah?

Yeah, I wanted to get the straight skinny.

What'd he say?

Well, he said there's some good news and some bad news.

What's the bad news?

-You're gonna die. -(chuckles) That's a shame.

Oh, yeah, but the good news is it's gonna take another 50 years.

Here you are.

Aw, man, you shouldn't have.

Well, you know, those hospital toothpicks, they're the worst.

Yeah.

Mm. I feel better already.

It scared the hell out of me, Neal, almost losing you.

I don't know what I'd do with myself.

Partners, right? Think I'd let you down like that?

-Nah, I guess not. -Damn right.

(knock on door)

You must have me pegged for a real Phi Beta Kappa.

What we have is you on tape in separate conversations

with Mo Feldstein and Neal Washington arranging to buy that suitcase,

time and place, amount agreed to.

I'm as sad as you to hear about Mo.

He was a dear friend.

That transaction was taken down and an officer was wounded.

At that time, for your information, I was at my sister's wedding anniversary.

I got-- Give me the list.

I got a list here of 50 people who can tell you the same thing.

And I'll also tell you, Captain, why I was there,

leaving aside how I feel about my sister and that scum she's married to.

All right.

Maybe there was gonna be a meet.

Maybe also I got a phone call the day before telling me not to show.

It's a setup.

I'm walking in there with my eyes wide open.

FRANK: A call from whom?

I don't know... a voice.

Somebody knew my phone number.

I tell you, I get a call like that, I listen.

You didn't recognize it?

It was dark. I couldn't hear so good.

You gotta worry about your man going down. I can understand that.

You want my advice?

You start looking for the guy who dropped that dime.

Book him on conspiracy

and suspicion of the murder of Buddy Janette.

Buddy Janette? I told you everything I know.

Is that a fact?

What did you tell Neal Washington about Buddy Janette, Rollie?

Ring any bells?

SIMONE (over recorder): Do you know the name Buddy Janette?

NEAL (over recorder): Yeah.

SIMONE: This is a terrible thing which happened to this guy.

You know something, Neal?

He owed less than $28,000.

Frank, I got six units on the payroll heist.

-Any progress? -Nothing solid.

The courier gave us a description,

white late-model van, three digits off the plates. There's an APB out.

What about suspects?

I got him going over the books. He didn't get a very good look.

-Good. Stay with it. -All right.

-Frank! -Oh, Fay, I'm just on my way out.

It's a girl, Frank.

The amniocentesis,

it is a perfectly healthy, beautiful baby girl.

-Oh, that's wonderful. Congratulations. -Oh, I did the right thing, Frank.

I can't tell you how happy I am.

-I'm happy for you. -A girl, Frank. I mean, isn't it grand?

I've been thinking about some names.

Uh, Fay, could we talk when I have a little more time?

Sure. It's okay. It's just I have so much to tell you.

I'm sure you have. I'll call you.

-Okay. -Wonderful news.

Yeah.

ESTERHAUS: Fay...

Gorgeous, Fay.

She'll be the light of your life.

They say she's perfect, Phil, every precious inch of her.

A little girl. I can just see her now. A little angel.

-Oh, how lucky you must feel. -Well, I highly recommend it, Phil.

-(scoffs) -Come on. Why not? You oughta try it.

Oh, how I wish.

Come on, Phil. You know, it's not out of the question.

No, it's just a feeling, Fay.

It just doesn't seem to be in the cards.

You know what saddens me?

I finally reached a place in my life where I know with absolute conviction

that I can be the kind of father to a child

that I've always wanted to be.

You know, there are fathers and then there are fathers.

I mean, as it stands right now,

my little girl's not gonna have any kind of father at all.

Fay...

And, um, I'd consider it an honor if you'd be her godfather.

I mean, if you could be there for her when she needs someone to look up to.

'Cause I gotta tell you, honestly, I can't think of another man in the world

that I would prefer her looking up to

than you, Philip Freemason Esterhaus.

(sniffling)

-I don't know what to say. -Oh.

Say yes.

(sniffling) Yes.

Good.

You know, I feel awkward not being able to bankroll any of this, Counselor.

I'll let you make it up to me in some mindlessly extravagant way.

-Take a promissory note? -I'll take anything you've got.

(knocking on window)

Window washer! Sorry!

Meter's running, pizza man.

(knocking on door)

-What? -(panting) I forgot your mineral water.

-FRANK: Oh, fine. -MAN: Thank you, sir.

-(panting) -Are you all right?

Elevator's out. I took the stairs.

-That was a mistake. -Let me take this.

Thank you, sir.

I'll be all right. It happens all the time.

Oh. Here, appreciate it.

Thank you, sir.

Listen, maybe you should wait till they fix the elevator.

That's a very good idea. Thank you. I will.

-Is he all right? -I think he'll live.

(knocking on door)

What?

(panting) That was a big mistake.

Oh. Oh. Oh.

-I'll call the desk. -Oh, no, no. I'll be all right.

It happens all the time.

Just-just need to catch my breath.

Here...

Okay, open up.

What-what else can we do?

Maybe a pillow under my feet.

(sighs)

If those perpetrators are ever delivered into the hands of justice

and I have anything to do with it, they had better beg for mercy,

'cause I am gonna personally hang them by their personal parts from a flagpole

over a cavern of hungry crocodiles

and assorted other animals of a similar nature. I am--

If I don't pay my car payment Monday, I'm gonna lose my car.

Hey, what's the color of that van we're looking for?

It is a white van, Bobby Hill,

with the numerals 737 on the license plate,

none of which happen to coincide with that van up ahead of us.

Yeah, but this has got a missing bumper, and a taillight's covered up.

-I'm gonna pull it over. -(siren chirps)

My friend, you are wasting time that could be better spent

looking for a more specific criminal element.

Come on.

-(siren wailing) -Perhaps I spoke too soon.

This is 2202 now in pursuit of red van,

license unknown, southbound, Van Ness and 4th.

Get on it. Get on it.

Hold on.

DISPATCHER (over radio): ...respond with backups.

(wailing continues)

Hey, chill!

Your mama's gonna visit you in the hospital

you move one muscle in this little body of yours, boy.

-Now, get up against here. -Take your hands off me, man!

-All right, now spread 'em. -This is bogus, man!

-I was only hitchhiking! -They're Diablos.

Two plates under the seat, 737. It's a match.

Bingo.

Well, well, well, it looks like we got ourselves

a couple of payroll desperados.

I don't know what you think you got here. I haven't done nothin'.

Oh, Frankie, you know me.

Been a Girl Scout for the last two years.

The courier ID'd the Valdez brothers in a lineup.

We sweated them and they both gave you up, Jesus.

We have sworn statements from both of them.

JESUS: What do I need the money for?

It so happens we have a theory about that.

Federal Agent Ramsey.

G-man.

Big times, huh, Frankie? I'm impressed.

Mr. Martinez and I were supposed to become acquainted two weeks ago.

We were scheduled to discuss the disposition

of a certain $45,000 federal grant.

When Mr. Martinez failed to appear,

I took the liberty of tracking his recent financial odyssey, if I may.

(sighs) Uh...

December 19th, he receives payment of the grant,

which he immediately invested in silver futures.

He scored an impressive $60,000 profit by January 24th,

at which point he transferred all the money to treasury bills.

Yeah, it was time for some conservative strategy.

Uh, two weeks later, he began investing in commodities futures,

everything from plywood to pork bellies with considerable success,

until February 23rd,

Pearl Harbor Day for Mr. Martinez's little embezzlement campaign.

Uh, betting on a shortage,

Martinez puts his whole pot in bean futures,

but a cold snap fails to materialize.

And Mr. Martinez's investment goes right into the toilet.

At this point, he becomes aware I'd begun making inquiries.

He's turned down for a covering loan at the bank.

Hence the need for a quick financial transfusion,

hence the robbery.

What do you have to say, Jesus?

I say the man did his homework rather well, Frankie.

I don't know when you plan to start taking this seriously,

but for your own sake, I hope it's soon.

Okay, maybe I got a problem here, but you guys got a problem, too.

I-I don't see where, Mr. Martinez.

Not you, G-man.

The guys that didn't get paid, who want to know where the money is.

Maybe I can help you there.

And maybe you can help me.

(whistling)

Sounds like cohabitation agrees with you, Howard.

Oh, actually not, old sport.

Nurse Wulfawitz and I just couldn't make a go of it.

I'm sorry.

Oh, my sun is rising considerably further to the east these days.

Buffalo?

I am seeing the most fascinating woman, Henry.

She's bright. She's beautiful. She's wonderfully different.

Mm. She's Vietnamese.

No kidding. Where'd you meet her?

Uh, at my Confucian study seminar.

I-I have bursitis.

Isn't anybody watching the cop-tip line?

(sighs)

(machine beeps)

MAN (on voicemail): I just seen a dude flash a nickel bag to a brother

at Third and Dupont.

My name is Cozar Johnson, and I'll be by to pick up my 25 today.

(beeps)

WOMAN: Hello, cop-tips,

I'm calling about a man who lives downstairs from us,

always parks his car in the red zone--

(tape fast-forwarding)

(beeps)

MAN: Yeah, I want to report a Jimmy Frumento,

lives at 205 North Utica, apartment 4-D.

He's the one that shot that cop last night.

Ooh, run, Jimmy!

-Get up! -Hey, come on!

-(shouting) -The wall! Hands high!

Spread 'em!

Come on!

I wanna hear one word outta you, golf ball, Rollie Simone.

Now, was it Simone sent you after the bag?

What bag, man? What Simone?

Who was the bozo you were with, your partner?

I'm telling you, I don't know what you're talking about!

You shot a cop!

-You know what kind of time that buys? -Oh, no, look. Look, that wasn't me.

That wasn't me pulled the trigger.

Who?

Joey, Joey Lake. He's the one who pulled the trigger.

So what? I bet it was your idea to take the cops down to begin with.

No! No, man! That was supposed to be a setup.

Me-me and Joey were supposed to get the bag for somebody else.

Man, that's all! I didn't even know! There was cops that had the bag!

Somebody who? Simone?

-I don't know! It's a friend of Joey's. -Who?

Okay. Okay, Iggy. Iggy, that's all I know.

I don't know the last name, honest.

He's a cop. He's a cop out of Midtown.

I didn't even know what was in the bag, man.

Come on, move!

Have any threats been made to induce you to plead guilty?

No, sir.

Any promise other than the promise

that in exchange for your providing Captain Furillo

with the whereabouts of the fruits of your crime

you'll be sentenced to a term of incarceration

-not to exceed two years? -No, sir.

(sighs)

Defendant's plea of guilty is accepted.

Remand for sentencing.

Set a date for a probation report.

-(gavel bangs) -Next.

BAILIFF: Docket number N693772, Leonard Dulcimer

charged with 130.30 of the Penal Code, grand larceny of the person.

-Your Honor, may we approach? -Step up.

Look, I know this is going to sound like a fairy tale,

but I've got an innocent man here.

Thank you.

So, Frankie, what do you figure, eight months?

Eight months, a year.

You want to say something nice to the probation lady?

No.

Hey, no sweat.

I got a lot of friends in Clarktown, anyway.

Play a little cards, watch some TV.

Need a vacation anyway, you know, bro?

I really thought you were gonna make it, Jesus.

Was I a disappointment to you, Furillo?

Well, let me tell you something, bro.

I don't live for your approval.

You had it all right there at your feet:

federal grant, legitimacy, a power base.

-I explain it only one way. -Please, no racist remarks, huh?

You didn't want to make it. You got scared.

-You don't know beans. -(chuckles)

From the look of it, neither do you.

The way I look at it, when I come out, Rockefeller's gonna have nothing on me.

Which one of your people do I deal with?

Yo, bro, I'm not goin' to the moon.

You need me, I'm just a phone call away.

Hey, Al Capone can do it, why can't I?

Take care of yourself, Jesus.

Yo, Frankie...

stay healthy.

I don't know what to say, Miss Davenport.

-You saved my life. -Nonsense.

I gave you your day in court, that's all.

Now scat. Go home.

Um, Miss Davenport, I'm sorry,

but I... I don't have any way to get back to work.

I'm broke.

I was wondering if maybe you could lend me

a couple of bucks for a cab till I get my next paycheck.

Forget about a loan. Take it.

Hey! Will you stop that kid? He just took my purse!

-(buzzing) -All right, all right. Hold your horses.

You guys here to pick something up?

-You could say that. -First, we got something to give you.

-You're Ignatius Mersky, right? -Right.

-This is a warrant. -MICK: That's right. You're under arrest.

What? What is this, a joke? What's the charge?

Conspiracy, robbery, attempted murder--

Hey, read it on the paper.

Hey, that's crazy! I'm on your side!

-I don't do things like that. -Oh, sure.

Listen, you got no right coming in here like this.

I'm Midtown.

-You don't have the authority. -Get outta the cage!

-There's gotta be a mistake. -No mistake, chump.

Now, do you want to come out of that cage like a good boy,

or do I get the pleasure of dragging you out?

-Can I lock up? -No, you can't. It'll be taken care of.

-Now, let's go. -Come on.

Listen, there are six diamond rings back there, fit right in your pocket.

Just tell them I was gone when you got here.

Earrings.

-Cuff links. -Turn around.

Come on. Take it easy.

Uncle John's Storybook Theater, hey, we don't want to miss the start.

Once upon a time, there was a down-and-out property clerk

named Iggy Mersky.

Poor Iggy, 14 years in the Midtown property cage,

and all he's holding is 16-and-a-half Gs a year,

zero career promos, house and car payments

that leave him about eight bucks a week walking-around money,

and an old lady bugging him for cable TV.

You leave my family out of this.

-(shushes) -J.D.: Poor Iggy.

All he's got to look forward to is a two-bit pension

and a first-rate midlife crisis,

till one day everything changes,

-a heavy soda bust. -Very heavy.

Twenty pounds of Peruvian flake is stashed in an airline travel bag

in Iggy's property room.

Now, let's give Iggy the benefit of the doubt.

Okay, let's say he's minding his own business.

He's got his nose buried in the morning sports,

he's having his Danish and coffee,

when, hark and behold, he hears a voice.

"Psst! Iggy!"

"What is that?" Iggy wonders.

"Hey, dummy, over here. It's me, the bag."

This guy needs professional help.

"I'm a pocketful of dreams, Iggy--

pure Peruvian flake, worth 400 Gs on the open market."

Now, this is a fairy tale, huh?

Let's say Iggy fights it off.

I mean, 'cause you didn't offer us a bribe before, right, Ig?

You ain't that kind of guy.

"Iggy. Listen to me.

They'll never need me for evidence.

Hey, they'll plea-bargain my case. It'll never come to trial.

Stuff me full of baking soda, Iggy.

Sell off the coke. Live it up for a change.

Beaches, mai tais with them little, funny umbrellas.

I'm your one chance for happiness, Iggy. Go for it!"

Come on. Cut it out.

Only trouble is, Iggy, they don't plea-bargain the case.

They set a date for the preliminary hearing.

Now, you're getting real nervous.

Then Washington and Benedetto need some scenery for a bust.

They check the bag out.

It's perfect, Iggy. It's your out.

You tip Simone off to queer the bust.

You hire that scuzzbag Jimmy Frumento to take down the cops,

then nobody will ever know you made the switch...

except for poppy boy Jimmy.

He's a nickel hooker.

He gives you up in about a minute and a half.

That was my partner you had hit, you little creep, my partner.

Two inches lower, he'd be dead now.

I didn't have anybody hit. What the hell do you think I am?

I think you're a slug who better make his best deal right now.

You act like I'm some mastermind, like I'm a big genius.

I got three lousy grand.

It was all Benedetto.

Benedetto?

He figured out the whole thing from the start.

Benedetto.

Everything in order, Mr. Benedetto?

Yeah, everything's just terrific, ma'am. Thank you.

Forget it, Benedetto!

Yeah, right.

(sirens wailing, tires screeching)

HENRY: As far as we can tell, Frank,

he's holed up in this small waiting room off the safe-deposit-box area.

The room's 10x30, Captain.

It's a series of cubicles with some chairs.

There's one ventilating duct, 9x12, there, and no windows.

-How's the lady? -No visual access.

Benedetto's turned up pretty high, Frank.

There's no telling what he's capable of.

I made that rat the minute he walked into the squad room,

big shot, big noise from Midtown.

What do you say we deal with the present, okay, J.D.?

Sure, sure. Bastard sets up one of his own.

Any contact with him at all?

Not since the first exchange.

He's got a clean shot at anything that goes by that door.

It's kind of hard to initiate a dialogue through a wall and a set of bars.

For some, Henry. Perhaps for some.

Oh, for God's sake.

Textbook scenario, Frank, cybernetics-wise.

I believe those among us who have been regarding TK

as a glorified domestic might be pleasantly surprised.

This is not Space Invaders, Howard.

I mean, you don't negotiate human lives with some overpriced gumball machine.

TK460 was not designed to supplant your negotiating function, Lieutenant--

merely to enhance it by giving you audio and visual access

where there was none hitherto.

I'm open to other suggestions, Henry.

Oh, yeah, we're gonna go places, baby. Oh, we're gonna see things. (laughs)

Fine.

-(sobbing) -Hey, it's gonna be all right.

Don't worry about nothin'.

(shudders)

(woman screams)

You gotta be kidding me.

Hey. Hey, 86 the robo, will ya?

You jerks! You got no class whatsoever.

Then come out, Benedetto. We'll put it away.

Come on, Sal. Talk to us.

-What do you need? -(chuckles) What do I need?

A Learjet to Banana Land, a case of suntan oil,

and Mrs. Dobson here to be blond and 20 years old!

(laughs) How's my chances?

A lot better than Washington's were, you maggot!

Hey, hey, that was a mistake.

Hey, is he out there? Huh?

Hey, Washington, that was a mistake. You weren't supposed to get hurt.

(breathing heavily)

Hey, look, uh...

Look, I'm sending the broad out.

Good for you, Sal.

Yeah, good for me, you Froot Loop.

Back off with the vibrator, will ya?

Nah, never mind.

All right. Go ahead, sweetheart, take off.

Up! Out! Go on! Go on!

Man hands in his trump card.

We're gonna lose him.

(chuckling)

(grunting)

(thuds)

Always gotta do things for yourself, huh. (laughs)

All right, listen. Listen up, you jerks.

I got another box over at First Guarantee, Walter Fisk.

And one over at Union Federal, name of Arthur Logan.

Give the dough to the PBA.

All the stiffs never knew how to turn a buck.

Benedetto, listen--

Yeah, what is it, Captain, huh? Hey, what's the good word, huh?

What, "A good cop's a straight cop,

an honest cop's a happy cop"?

Yeah, well, you can take a high colonic.

(chuckles) I'm proud of what I did.

Yeah, I lived real good.

And, uh...

give some to Mouse Feldstein's old lady.

I cooled the Mouse out, too.

-You got it? -Hey, you got the right idea, there, Sal!

-Do the right thing! -(gunshot)

(telephone ringing)

-Sorry. -My fault entirely.

You know, that little robot is gonna be sorely missed around here.

That's the first time TK's equilibrium problems have surfaced.

I trust it merely needs some fine-tuning.

I guess that means that you'll be gone.

-Of course, you'll be gone, too. -Back across the briny.

I was wondering--

I know it's uncustomary late of me to ask--

would you and Joe be free this evening?

I think that could be arranged. Yeah.

Excuse me.

You know, you and I could even--

I mean, I haven't actually had a chaperon since I was 21.

I'd be delighted if we could make it a threesome.

Okay, well, if that's what you'd like, sure.

Does that sort of thing interest you?

What's that?

Threesomes. I mean, would Joe be interested?

You know, I think probably I could speak for him

in that, uh, I think he's probably busy.

Pity.

In fact, you know, now that I think about it...

I'm gonna be tied up...

as it were.

Heard you lost one.

He won't be missed.

Going somewhere?

I took the liberty of packing for you.

I also took the liberty of booking a luxury weekend for two

at the Lake Tokawama Hotel.

Bless you, my child.

All of which presupposes

I wouldn't get all my cash and credit cards stolen.

-Did you file a report? -Mm-hmm.

Frank, I just wanted us to get away for a weekend.

-Now we're tapped out. -I'll kite a check.

Before there was you, Counselor, and timely loans--

Frank, do you see what I see?

-I hope so. -Jesus just kept his word.

Money just got returned. Thought maybe you could use yours.

Lieutenant, I see you with a halo over your head.

HENRY: All right. All right, everybody...

Cash! Solvency!

Don't be extreme.

-Hey, Leo. -Rico. Hey, how'd your registration go?

-You get into your class? -Hey, registration.

Exactly. I want to talk to you about that.

(chuckles) You understand?

You understand me?

Yeah. You're high.

Hey, no, hey, you understand me, Leo.

-You better go away. -Hey, why? What's the matter?

-You know. -Yeah, I know.

Yeah, you think I don't know?

Hey, let me tell you something. Hey, let me tell you something, Leo.

Uh, I'm gonna tell you-- Hey, don't you think I know, huh?

(stutters) Didn't I go to school?

I go to school. (laughs)

Didn't I try to ride the bus?

Yeah. (makes engine noise)

I did. I walked.

I walked, and it was very far.

(chuckles) Cars go and splash me--

You should've made it.

Yeah, I probably should've.

But it's a little splash, you know?

-(stutters) -Go away!

Hey, Leo! Stay!

I probably should...

I probably should've made it, you know?

Yeah. Okay.

Cohen.

-Conklin. -Oh.

HENRY: Delaney.

-Mary. -Okay, Leo.

HENRY: Rose.

-Diamond. -Yo.

-HENRY: Diaz. -Here, Lieutenant.

HENRY: Doyle.

-Duran. -Thank you.

HENRY: Esterhaus.

(closing theme playing)