Original subtitles

HOWARD: You will all have noticed a malodorous fragrance

pervading our building, courtesy of uncollected garbage

in the alley and beneath our windows,

and intensified by a warm snap in the weather.

In short, the city's garbage strike goes into day 12, and as we all feared,

we will now have to assist sanitation department personnel

-on emergency refuse pickups. -MAN: You're kidding!

-(crowd mutters) -WOMAN: What?

HOWARD: Uniforms assigned half day only.

-Morning detail. Brown... -(meows)

...Kolzicki, Richardson, Schneider, Hill and Renko.

Well, sir, my back won't take it, and nevertheless my pride won't take it.

Not to mention my dignity as a police officer.

As far as our pride and dignity, Andrew... (clears throat)

There is, uh, a Turkish saying, and I translate roughly,

"If I am a gentleman and you are a gentleman,

who will take out the trash?"

(laughter)

Plainclothes personnel will not be spared.

Detectives LaRue and Washington join garbage collection afternoon detail.

Uh-uh, Sarge, uh, we're in court on the Benetiz sting.

-Preliminary hearings. -Well, can't you postpone it?

NEAL: Seventy-two hour deadline.

If we don't make it, he's paroled and dealing coke by midnight.

-(man groans) -'Course, uh,

if we happen to get done by around noon or so, we'll be glad to pitch in.

-(crowd murmurs) -Yes.

Item eight. As if our hands weren't already full,

we have today the funeral cortege of drug kingpin Gerard Cullen.

-Dead at 31. -(crowd groaning)

Stabbed in his Harrisonville cell by an unknown assailant.

So young, so innocent.

Talk about stinkin' trash.

HOWARD: To forestall trouble,

the city has granted a parade permit along Dekker Avenue.

And Lieutenant Buntz will supervise.

Now, uniform personnel please check the board for crowd control.

-Uh... -(cat meows)

Ah, item last.

-A new recruit. -(cat meows)

Please welcome Officer Gracie Allen.

Assignment: rat poaching immediate environs of the station house.

-Go get 'em. Dismissed. -(indistinct chatter)

We're talking 12-foot high piles of caca here.

I'd rather pick up garbage than do crowd control for that funeral.

Can you believe the city's paying for cops

to stand around like damn honor guards for Gerard Cullen

like he's a hero or something?

There but for the grace of Benetiz, Neal.

Have you two got the lab report on Benetiz's alleged cocaine?

Brought 'em in yesterday. It should be ready now.

We can pick 'em on the way from the lab on the way to court.

And what lab is that? The city's or a private contractor?

Contractor. What's the difference?

They'll be there, don't worry.

And what does the PBA say? It's in the contract.

Well, I didn't contract to pick up no garbage,

and I am the PBA representative of this precinct--

Officers Hill and Renko, I'm Phillips from sanitation.

Just one moment, please.

So I will shortly be calling our lawyer to try to invalidate this travesty,

but first I must go and prioritize my own emergency dump site.

Excuse me.

-Officer Hill. -Yeah.

I'm drivin', you guys are haulin'. Uh, limousine's parked out front there.

But what-what does he mean he's prioritizing whose dump site?

I got a Dumpster in front of my donut shop.

I pay good money for it,

and this Looney Tunes' stuffin' his garbage in it all day!

What is Looney Tune? Is insult, yes?

Write down he says I am Looney Tune in public!

-What the heck is this? -Evidence.

-(men arguing) -A verbal description will do, officer.

This freakin' stuff reeks.

-It is not my garbage! -You are a liar!

Write down he says I am liar!

I am Looney Tune!

-Excuse me, is this stuff yours? -Uh-- Mine? No!

Yes! His!

Prove it, grease ball!

I prove it 'cause you call me grease ball!

Come on, prove it! Prove it!

-Ah! Donut! See? -Grease ball! Idiot!

Idiot!

(indistinct yelling)

-Oh, you idiot! -(shouting)

-Morning, Howard. -Frank.

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)

Can I talk to an officer, please?

I got it.

Howard!

We've got a hostage situation.

Wilcox has been shot. We're not sure how bad.

Division is requesting you take over emergency action for the duration.

Me?

-Frank? -First I heard.

If the Division wants you, go.

Green Hotel, as soon as you can.

-What about squad room? -Sergeant Bates can cover.

Howard!

Right. Right.

All day, all night, youngster's standin' around on my lawn,

buyin' and sellin' their poison.

Forty years now I kept that lawn nice.

We've got to get you to the hospital, sir.

It makes the house pretty.

Feels good. Brings birds to the door.

They got a fight with some crack dealers outside his house.

You know, you should have called us, Mr. Sloane.

That's our job.

Marvin Sloane fights his own battles!

Lucy? Excuse me, I'm sorry.

Uh, Officer Russo will take your spot out on the street.

You will have the squad room for a couple of hours.

Okay.

Will you guys get him over to Mercy emergency?

-Mm-hmm. -He doesn't hear very well.

Where are we going?

We got to do somethin' for those cuts, old-timer.

You don't have to yell! I ain't no invalid!

(gun chamber spinning)

(sighs)

(sighs)

(traffic sounds)

Everybody wants their report yesterday. My assistant's out with the flu.

Makes Monday the earliest possible.

Oh, terrific. Your assistant's out with the flu,

so a serious criminal's gonna walk.

Couldn't you hire a temp? Just for a couple of days?

You show me where I find them for the lousy money the city pays.

Hey, we ain't an employment agency.

(printer printing)

And I'm not either.

And the longer we argue,

the longer it takes me to get through my do-outs which I take in order

and which you gentlemen are somewhere near the bottom.

-(phone rings) -Good day.

(siren wailing)

(police radio chatter)

Good to have you back, sir.

Thank you. How's Lieutenant Wilcox?

Shoulder wound. They say he's okay.

Ah.

(helicopter rotor whirring)

Have you talked to our man up there yet?

Nothing.

Any information?

Yeah, stuck his head out the window, took a couple of pot shots.

I don't know. I heard some laughing.

(gunfire)

(laughing)

Lieutenant Hunter! (laughing)

Ballantine?

Besides which, where do garbage men get off

askin' for parity with police officers?

You know how much garbage the average garbage man lifts in a year?

Do you know how long it takes to become a cop?

I mean, how many hundred tons?

-It don't make no difference to me... -Damn!

...how many tons.

-What? -Funeral for Cullen.

(indistinct chatter)

Officer, can't you spread the crowd for us?

-Let us get through? -Uh-uh. Not till the parade passes.

We're behind already.

If we got to wait, we're gonna miss the garbage scow on Fourth Street.

Listen, turn it around or wait. I can't let you through.

(crowd shouting)

All right, keep back. Keep back.

(shouting)

I'm glad he's dead! Y'all hear?

Cullen was evil! He was the devil!

He was the feel good king of the Hill

and he goin' out in style, just like he lived.

Hey, you want to go out in style, too? Back up there onto the sidewalk.

Yeah, well, if my man Cullen was alive, you wouldn't talk to me that way.

He ate you cops for breakfast.

Yeah? Well, it's lunchtime, and he's meat.

So back up there or you're busted for creatin' a nuisance.

Okay, scum wad?

White man's tie for sure.

Let's beat 'em to the intersection.

-You got it. -(gears grind)

Hey, what are you doin'?

Get out of the way, son. We got a route to do.

We're goin' through.

(horn blows)

(crowd cheering)

(indistinct)

Hey, what's that garbage truck doin'?

It's probably collectin' garbage. Hey, hey, hey, hey!

Man, get this truck outta here!

Show some respect for your brother!

Cullen wasn't no brother of mine.

Yeah, you're the garbage man, and you talk that way

-about a class dude like Cullen? -Oh, yeah, class dude.

You know how many brothers and sisters Cullen's junk put in the ground?

Hey, who's the boss?

I got your boss right here, buddy.

So shut up!

(horn honking)

What the hell are you doin'?

We're doin' our job.

Well, do it somewhere else.

Back it up. I'm a police officer.

This is a Black man's funeral.

You comin' down here to hassle us?

Hey, I tell you what, blood, uh,

why don't you give, uh, us Cullen's casket, man?

We'll save you the trip to the cemetery.

Put it right up there in the truck right now,

with the rest of the trash.

-What's your problem? -I'm lookin' at it.

Now, when you goin' move?

When I'm through, man.

You through now!

-Oh, yeah? -Aah!

Man, what are you--

(crowd yelling)

(indistinct)

You people here to say goodbye to Cullen,

to see he gets the send-off he deserves?

Well, here! Here's what he deserves!

(crowd yelling)

BAILIFF: N695314.

Raul Benetiz, controlled substance, on for preliminary hearing.

Detectives, glad you could make it.

You ready to proceed?

No, Your Honor. Lab report's not ready.

Ah, come on!

Defense application.

Parole, 72-hour rule.

Your Honor, in the people's opinion, if Mr. Benetiz is paroled today,

he won't be back until the next time he's arrested.

Mr. Bernstein, I don't make up the laws.

And I didn't invent the fact that we've got a record number of drug busts.

How about till the close of business, Judge?

Defendant was arraigned at 10:00 a.m. three days ago.

Damn it, Judge, we worked hard on this collar.

It's not our fault that-that they farm this stuff out

to those incompetent private labs.

Guy had a personnel problem.

If I put the case down for 4:00, Detective, would it make a difference?

Yes.

JUDGE: Could the lab do its report by then?

Yes, I believe so. T-They indicated a strong possibility.

You see, your, uh, client's a bail jumper from way back, Ms. Davenport.

I'm sure our Detective LaRue wouldn't deceive this tribunal.

-On again at 4:00. -(bangs gavel)

-Any shot? -All kinds of shot.

Sure, guys.

-How? -How?

How? I don't know how.

Maybe we could find Kruger some help.

You. You, sir, are a true genius.

Okay, assault, disturbin' the peace,

interferin' with a police officer in the performance of his duty.

Collectin' the garbage, that your duty?

Yes, it is.

You know, Harry Kessler.

Didn't he go to pharmacy school or somethin'?

Uh-uh. Veterinary school, you know.

Uh, Officer Hill, we heard that you dumped the garbage

on the hearse, but, uh, we didn't hear why.

No comment.

Officer Hill, my office.

Ah, why don't you talk to Mr. Phillips here,

see if he's got somethin' to say.

-All right. -Okay.

You were making a statement about Cullen.

We just want you to put it in words.

Granted, there was provocation,

but it sounds to me as if your reactions were over the line, out of proportion.

Captain, a public funeral honoring a man like Gerard Cullen

is out of proportion, too.

You don't think for a minute I disagree with that?

But I don't have to tell you that your behavior could have caused a disaster.

-We almost had a riot on our hands. -I know.

But I have been cleanin' up Cullen's messes for so long that I'm--

You can give your reasons in a blow-by-blow in your report.

For now I'm looking to see whether disciplinary action's in order.

I can understand that, sir,

and I can see how you'd want to consider that option.

Am I dismissed?

I mean, how many guys know their way around the chemistry

of controlled substances as well as you, and get to make a quick dollar...

-Have you seen Norm? -Not for a while.

-...all within the law? -Okay.

Oh, yeah? Oh, thanks for nothin'.

(slams phone down)

Neal, what's the name of that high school chemistry teacher

we busted for indecent exposure?

Am I overhearing the need for skilled help here?

You want bucks? Go ask Sergeant Bates.

Come on, guys, I heard what I heard.

What kind of controlled substance we talkin' about?

Hey, J.D., don't even think it.

He has had experience testin' coke, Neal. Am I right, Sid?

Are turkeys nervous in November?

So? I can quack and I can waddle across the street.

But that don't make me no duck.

You want to lose Benetiz, Neal? We don't have a vast amount of time here.

You busy this afternoon?

The things I got penciled in could be erased for the proper compensation.

-Come on. -Oh...

LUCY: Bobby Hill, line three.

-Hey, Wash. -(mutters)

Hmm.

Officer Hill speaking.

Excuse me?

Just a second.

Communications, I want a trace, line three!

-Did you get that? -Yeah, we got it.

You got it.

Uh, sorry, um, lost you there for a second.

This is Officer Hill, Hill Street station.

Um, is it me you wanted to talk to?

Ha. This is Harry. This is Harry, right?

Harry, haven't we outgrown these practical jokes, partner?

Yeah, hold on for a second.

-Hello? -Who's that?

(hangs phone up)

Man said, "You're a dead cop."

One of Cullen's people?

MAN: Nailed one at last, but it was just a phone booth.

Hundred and ninth and-and Western Avenue.

That's a funeral parlor, right?

-Cullen's gang. -MICK: Bobby.

Is this right? Somebody just threaten you?

Let's go visitin', huh?

See if we can't arrange a frank and open exchange of views here.

(telephone ringing)

Let's go. Let's go!

So, Marv, you remember anything else about the jerks

who hit you besides one of 'em had shades and the other had purple shoes?

-A hat, and the white Panama. -(indistinct police radio)

He was sort of wiry. There was three of 'em.

It happened so fast. But I got one good lick in, I think.

Now, Mr. Sloane, what about your glasses?

The nurse says that your prescription's out of date.

I can see enough to see you're a fine lookin' woman.

(laughing)

Plus, you'll need a new hearing aid.

-What? Say that again? -You need a new hearing aid!

Hey, all that stuff costs money.

(dog barking)

(yells) Beat it!

Damn dog has stamped down all my shrubs!

This used to be a pretty little house when I bought it.

Kept it nice for years.

I didn't know it was gonna become the crack stand of the neighborhood.

-You live alone? -MARVIN: Yeah, my wife's inside now.

She's prayin' the dealers don't bust open my skull.

Mr. Sloane, we're going to try and get more patrols--

-This was a quiet place! -(dog barks)

I built some of these houses. Used to be a hard carrier.

Twenty pounds of mud on my shoulders, up and down scaffoldin' all day.

-Pat, uh, get the social services book. -Yeah.

Look, I ain't goin' to stand in no lines all day for no charity.

Now, look, Medicaid isn't charity, Mr. Sloane.

-It's you're right. -(car door slams)

Now you change your mind about those eyeglasses and getting

your hearing aid fixed and then you call these numbers, okay?

And, meanwhile, you gotta be careful around those guys.

They come back, they better be careful.

(children shouting playfully)

(police radio, indistinct)

Got some info on the hostage.

A shrink from Uxbridge Hospital, Dr. Katchmer.

Ballantine's been coming to him once a week for counseling.

A shrink, Judas.

I'll wager the man's wishing he'd gone into podiatry.

Ballantine?

BALLANTINE (on phone): Have you established a kill zone yet, Hunter?

When's Peddlehopper's recon unit detaching a Boy Scout team up here?

Come on, execute the game plan!

No one is gonna try and trick you, Ballantine.

BALLANTINE (on phone): I've got your soft Bible engraved on my skull!

This ninja is ready for whatever you've got!

I give you my word, we are holding our fire, Ballantine.

BALLANTINE (on phone): Oh, no, go ahead!

Deploy those goose-stepping clones,

Myerhoff and Simpson, up the back fire escape.

They'll walk into a turkey shoot!

Tell the men on the back fire escape to back off until ordered.

(rifle cocks)

(gunshots)

-Return fire, sir? -No!

No, he can be talked down, I'm sure of it.

In any event, he's got the shrink too close.

Ballantine. Ballantine.

How did we come to this? Think, son.

Think about what you're doing. You shot a fellow EATer.

-Yes, I did, Hunter. -(aerosol spraying)

I did that. And I regret that.

Good. Jack, that's good.

Yeah. What I really regret is that it wasn't you!

Aah! Ta-da!

-(gunshots) -Aah!

(tires screech)

(police radio chatter)

(indistinct chatter)

(room quiets)

You have the bad taste to come here, bother people, at a time like this?

Who said people? We want you, Manly.

We got somethin' to discuss.

Bring 'em.

What's this thing we got to discuss,

aside from you got our man Burroughs on phony charges?

Gee, I don't know. Pick a subject.

Spread 'em! Get down there!

Aw, this is a roust.

I don't know. Define roust, huh?

Is this what you do when you roast somebody, huh? Huh?

You never threaten cops, pal! That's somethin' you never, ever do!

All right, well, I can't find any weapons, Mick. You?

-I'm not done lookin'! -You gonna ruin my jacket!

I see you got no respect for my fine threads.

Oh. What do you think, Norm?

Maybe the weapon is in the clothes.

The lining, sure.

All right, men, come on. Let's have your jackets.

Come on, let's have your jackets! You hear me, huh?

Come on! All right.

NORMAN: Ain't finding nothin' here, huh?

Find anything, Mick?

-(clothing ripping) -(Norman laughs)

PATRICK: I wish I would have been there. What'd they say?

They didn't make much conversation. Is that the last refill?

Gentlemen, we have been put down and plowed under by Division,

by lawyers, by street-comers lo these many years,

and today we stood up and fought back.

Here's to us.

All right.

Partner.

To us.

(sniffs) How come I don't smell any garbage?

TINA: 'Cause the wind shifted.

Patrick, white Panama hat.

PATRICK: And purple shoes, as per Mr. Sloane's assailant.

-As I live and breathe! -This guy's tough to collar.

RENKO: Y'all want some help, Officer?

Stop! Police!

(man shouts in Spanish)

Up against the wall! Let's go! Hands over your head!

-I'm clean here! -Then why the 50-yard dash?

I'm late to see my girlfriend.

Where are you takin' her, the Sovereign?

Ah, he's saving his pennies to buy a crack franchise, huh?

My girlfriend gave me that.

If it's illegal to have money, put all the white people in jail.

(beeping)

Let me guess. Your girlfriend's calling.

Are you well versed in lab procedure mister, uh, Thurston?

This guy was practically born in a test tube.

Well, I'll have to do some background checking.

Well, you're welcome to call my references,

but it's still, uh, kind of early in Hawaii.

He'll work cheap. Won't you, Mr. Thurston?

Well, uh, within reason for a man of my credentials.

Give the man a little demonstration, Sidney.

Oh, I would love to. May I?

-Would you? -Here.

This is, uh-- You got a scale?

That's about a half a pound.

Actually, just a little under.

There you go.

Ay, 0.46, bingo!

-Eh? -Vinegar?

Ascetic acid?

Uh, they're a little bit informal about labels in Hawaii.

-Hmm. -Hawaii.

Ascetic acid, vinegar, whatever.

Just a pinch of the, uh, unidentified substance.

Rock it out with a dash of, uh, cobalt thiocyanate.

Say the tragic, magic words.

-Oh. -Ooh.

-Turns to a blushing blue. -Meaning?

Meaning it's got the right beat, but at this point we don't know

whether we can dance to it.

Confirmatory test?

You got any platinum chloride in the cupboard?

(sighs) Okay, okay.

Okay, okay, I'm hired?

-Okay, he's hired. -Eh.

-And we get our report, right, Mr. Kruger? -Yeah, yeah.

-See you in one hour, Sidney. -One hour.

(indistinct police radio)

-It's the sugar from the donuts. -What is?

The sugar, it's a mood deal.

Like a roller coaster, it goes up and down.

Daryl Ann set it out for me.

Well?

Well, if it ain't the sugar, it's gotta be somethin'.

We got off easy on the garbage detail.

We got to do tap-dancin' on some bad guys' heads.

Had a good time for the first time in a long time.

-Had fun-- -Furillo.

Furillo?

As in Captain Furillo.

Jury's still out on whether or not

he'll discipline me for flingin' that garbage.

No, man, that's just a reprimand, it's a slap on the wrist.

And then what do I do but go roustin' some hoods

with-- with you guys like a bunch of damn rookies?

-They threatened your life! -Smart move.

What are you gonna do about that, man?

-They threatened your life! -But doesn't the captain see?

Doesn't he realize what it's like standin' out there,

while Cullen's bein' strut past us like peacocks!

-You gotta see it from his side. -His side?

Yeah, somethin' goes wrong like that,

it's like the department's responsible or somethin' like that.

WOMAN (over radio): All units in vicinity, shooting at dump site.

Corner of Hudson and 111. Operator of garbage truck down.

-(siren wails) -Hit it! Come on!

(siren stops, tires squeal)

Guy starting shootin' at him out of nowhere.

Earl had a gun. Fired back.

Paramedics will be here, partner.

(breathing slowly) I got him.

Shh, shh, shh.

I shot him between the legs, man.

-Earl... -You know what I mean?

-Earl, just lay still. -He about my height.

-(wheezing) -Earl, just be quiet.

-Can you back up, sir? -I've got a pulse.

He's not breathing, he's not breathing.

-Start your ventilations. -It's bad, right?

-It's an abdominal wound. -I've got the ventilations here.

MAN 1: His pulse is fading. We're losing him, we're losing him.

-MAN 2: Oh, man... -They're gonna lose him.

-MAN 1: Come on, breathe, breathe. -MAN 2: Okay.

They gonna lose him, Renko.

Morning.

-Morning, gentlemen. -Good morning.

Driver's standing by out front to take me to Farmingdale.

But I had to stop by and say that it's a hell of a day

-for the department, Frank. -Oh?

Our man Hill sabotaging that dope dealer's funeral procession, I love it.

Hill's stunt was provocative, uncontrolled, and now it turns out--

Aw, geez, Frank, try and be a human being for once, will ya?

And now it turns out we may have a homicide because of it!

Somebody just shot Earl Phillips,

the man who was driving the truck Hill was on.

His chances of recovery are lousy.

-One of Cullen's men? -We don't know that.

Phillips shot back, wounded the man. We're checking all the hospitals.

Well, of course, that is unfortunate, but...

But worth it, Chief?

Keep me informed on the investigation.

And, Frank, about Hill's behavior,

try and get behind your men, will you?

They aren't diplomats. This ain't the peace corps.

Excellent work today, Officer.

The guy we were with out there just died.

Phillips?

Yes, sir.

Then he was a hero.

MAN: Chief Daniels, just one moment of your time, please.

I have a car waiting for me, gentlemen. I have time for one, maybe two questions.

TINA: Well, Mr. Sloane?

PATRICK: Take your time.

Take all day, it won't make no difference.

Honest truth,

couldn't see their faces then, I can't see 'em now. I'm sorry.

Don't be sorry, just get your eyes fixed.

And your hearing.

I'm gonna take you over there myself to make sure.

-No, not today. I'm all worn out today. -Then tomorrow.

And we're gonna make sure that there's more drive-bys

on your street, Mr. Sloane.

Is there somethin' I can do for you two now that you've done for me?

Thanks, but that's not necessary, Mr. Sloane.

Oh, yeah, it is. I can wise you up.

Uh, you two ain't married, is you?

No.

Well, you ought to be. To each other.

Where you goin' to find yourself a woman finer than this one?

-Kinder or prettier? -(chuckles)

Mr. Sloane.

Old man's privilege. I tell it like it is.

(chuckles)

Cap, Guy just checked out emergency room at Mercy's, uh,

a little short on manhood.

-Fits the description. -Let's go.

Get DA authorization and an arrest warrant.

Will do.

-I'll be with you in a minute, guys. -What the hell's goin' on here?

Don't worry about this. Ain't your stuff.

Could you get me a fire extinguisher, Detective?

I'm tryin' out certain ideas,

certain combinations in a designer field of medication.

Maybe I'll invent something.

They already got the neutron bomb, Sid.

-Where's Kruger at? -He's over at O'Malley's.

Which even if the health inspector was right next door, I still don't eat there.

-The report, Sid? -Oh, yeah, right.

Tested mucho el dopo.

-You did good, Sid. -Well, this is a righteous gig.

I-I gotta really thank you guys for puttin' me on to it.

Don't mention it... to anybody, Sid.

I won't. What's he payin', by the way?

Between you and Kruger.

Great.

Hey, Madame Curie, you got another fire goin' there.

Oh, geez.

Uh, how about it? Can we talk to Higby?

Doctor says no.

Is this doctor aware that Higby's under arrest for murder?

He's also been under general anesthesia.

Well, what's the PD doin' in there? Watchin' him sleep?

Let me take a shot.

Ms. Davenport.

I'm short on time, Lieutenant.

This won't take long.

(clears throat)

Higby, case against him's, uh, a lock, right?

There's the gun in his car,

the blood on his shirt, a witness on the street.

Mostly circumstantial.

If you're leading up to some kind of deal,

I've already told the DA my client's not interested.

Your client's a flea, Ms. Davenport.

He's a microscopic particle. It's the people who hired him we want.

I've told you, Lieutenant, we're not looking for any deals.

I'm due in court.

This is a deal with a difference, please.

(sighs) Well?

Thing is,

seein' Higby's definitely gonna do some time, probably a lot,

the only question is what kind of time he's gonna do, considerin' his condition.

-What condition? -(coughs)

You're, ah, familiar with the exact nature of Higby's wound?

-Uh, Lieutenant-- -The way it lightened him up, I mean.

So now he's a little short in the, uh, crucial equipment department.

As my grandmother used to say,

what's that got to do with the price of beans?

I wouldn't be discussin' this with your grandmother.

It's sort of a... delicate area.

-I'm listening. -(sighs)

If Higby's fellow inmates were to, uh,

somehow find out how he ain't the man he used to be.

How he ain't even a man at all, so to speak.

-You're saying he'd be abused. -As in badly.

And unless Higby names his alleged employers,

you'd see to it that somebody got the word out?

That offer's astoundingly improper, Lieutenant.

You try it and I'll hit you with a restraining order.

Just tell him what I told you, all right?

I'll of course relay to Mr. Higby anything that's relevant to his case.

That's all we can ask, Counselor.

-(footsteps receding) -(sighs)

HOWARD: You remember the survivalist conference, Jack?

How we had to bivouac in that swamp and we--

we were only 50 yards from the headquarters.

But the fog was so thick we just couldn't see it.

And remember, remember how we sang songs to keep up our spirits?

Sure, sure you do, Jack.

Let's sing now.

Maybe...

Maybe I ought to take over, Howard.

Is that an order, Lieutenant?

It's no order, Howard, I just thought I'd give it a try.

(helicopter rotors whirring)

(clears throat)

Ballantine, this is Lieutenant Goldblume.

Oh.

Oh, swell. Super!

Now I get that-that steady, reasonable stuff, huh?

The psychological approach?

I already got a psychologist up here, Goldblume,

and I'm about to blow his head off!

No psychological stuff. Just a direct appeal to your intelligence.

Come out. Come down.

You can't do yourself any good in there, Ballantine.

BALLANTINE (on radio): Okay, sure. You got me.

(chuckles) One condition.

HENRY (on radio): What's that?

You shoot Hunter for me and toss his body out where I can see it!

(Ballantine laughing)

Ballantine, Ballantine, listen to me.

(Ballantine continues laughing crazily)

He's reaching some kind of breaking point.

If we have a shot, we're gonna have to take it.

Uh, we're still in the talk mode here. Shall I try again?

Jack?

Jack, it's me. Now-now, listen to me, son.

Uh, you are angry at me.

And I-I'm sure that you feel that you have every right,

that-that I have been pompous or vain on occasion.

On occasion? Ha!

I understand how you feel, Jack.

Okay, Hunter. I'll sing with you.

Say again?

Yeah, I remember that song we sang.

Good.

Jack, good.

BALLANTINE (on radio): ♪ Over hill, over dale ♪

BOTH: ♪ We will hit the dusty trail ♪

♪ As the caissons go rolling along ♪

♪ Counter march, right about ♪

♪ Hear the wagon soldiers shout ♪

-♪ As those caissons go rolling along ♪ -Do you feel it, Jack?

♪ Oh, it's hi, hi, hee... ♪

BALLANTINE (on radio): No!

No more! No more singing!

Using a song on me like I was a child.

Playing on my feelings about military service!

But-but you wanted to sing, Jack.

You said, "I'll sing with you." Do you remember, Jack?

(banging phone receiver)

I won't be played on anymore!

Not by you, Hunter! Not by Goldblume!

Not by this worm of a psychiatrist I've got here!

You're all like metastasized cells eating your way into my brain!

(gunshot)

MAN: Let's get the medics in there!

(siren wailing)

Hold it.

Okay.

Oh, Dr. Katchmer, I'm glad to see that you're all right.

I know it's a lot to ask, but you must try not to blame Jack.

-He was-- -I don't blame Jack.

I blame you, the great Lieutenant Hunter.

Jack trusted you. You were the father he never had.

But you were too busy hanging upside down from the ceiling

or dating transsexuals.

He told you that?

Ragged you pretty hard, sir.

Ah, yes, uh, man's obviously suffering from negative transference.

Recall docket N695314.

Raul Benetiz.

I don't see Ms. Davenport.

Oh, she's on another case, Your Honor. I'm counsel for the defense.

Bernstein, do we have our lab report?

In that case, I'm granting defense's request for parole.

Got it, Your Honor.

No sweat. Felony weight.

What did you do, buy the guy a ticket to the Bahamas?

Don't answer that.

This looks in order. Okay!

I think we're ready for a preliminary hearing.

-Oh, man. -Thank you, Your Honor.

And, uh, may I add that this is an example of the private sector

and the public sector working hand in hand.

(yawns) Thank you.

You know, I can't believe how quickly Higby rolled over on his bosses.

Yeah, well, the remainder of his privates were in danger.

(chatter)

-(glass shattering) -(woman screams)

-Police! Freeze! -(woman screams)

-NORMAN: Manly! -(shouting)

Freeze!

(shouting)

Get up there! Come on, get up there!

Come on, you're under arrest! Come on!

I'll put you in the damned garbage truck, Manly!

(telephone ringing)

All right, turn in here and face the counter

and shut your damn mouth.

Come on, walk. Move! Move! Come on!

Hey. All right, John Manly, Butch Jones, David Morris.

Conspiracy to commit murder, all three of 'em.

Lieutenant, Chief Daniels says that the arrest of Cullen's men quote,

"Strikes a heavy blow against drug traffic here on the Hill."

-Would you agree with that? -Sure.

Uh, the last half hour at least. Depends on the weather.

Look at that, partner, biggest bust since the Brinks job.

And we could have had a taste of it

if they wouldn't have pulled us off trash detail.

Hey, can't feel too bad, babe. We've done pretty well ourselves today.

I have to hand it to you, gentlemen,

I heard you really pulled the rabbit out of the hat with that lab test.

Just a couple of guys doing our jobs, Ms. Davenport.

Two weeks' worth of work,

scorched by that arsonist you palmed off on me as a chemist!

Excuse me, uh, what chemist is that, sir?

Ah, it's police business, Ms. Davenport.

Could we discuss this in private, Mr. Kruger?

Plus that moron lifted three grams of coke!

Probably out frying his pea brain right now.

Uh, must be some kind of mistake, sir.

Only mistake is I let you talk me into believing that lizard had a degree!

I called a reference number on his application

and got the Blue Bird of Happiness Massage Parlor in Honolulu.

Uh, excuse me, Detective.

Uh, what was the name of that chemist you hired?

Thurston. Sidney Thurston.

No way.

Howard, how are you?

Just talked to Ballantine's doctor.

Looks like it's gonna be a long road back for him.

Yeah.

I thought I could reach him.

Ah. Truth is, uh...

I wasn't very good out there today.

(sighs) Um...

I felt like I was being jostled by shadows.

-You did fine. -(chuckles)

Well, I didn't think I was gonna get a chance to put this on for a while.

Any word from the review board yet?

No. (sighs)

(meowing)

Officer Allen.

(meowing continues)

Good hunting, Officer.

I want Benetiz paroled and the lab report redone right away.

Captain, the guy was legally hired by a bona fide lab, so what's the problem?

The problem is your chemist has been convicted of four felonies,

and he got his degree at Harrisonville for making license plates!

Now get outta here and do your jobs right.

Right, Captain.

It's a case of misguided initiative. Sorry.

-You don't have-- -Dr. Thurston, I presume?

You're coming with us, Sid.

You might want in on this, Lieutenant.

Come on, huh? Guys! Huh? Que pasa!

Snitches court is now in session.

Evidence, exhibit A, two grams of rock found in the defendant's shirt pocket.

Hey, come on, I went to bat for you guys.

Snitches courts? This is more like kangaroo court.

Exhibit B, $100 found in the defendant's pants pocket.

Defendant will rise.

The defendant, Sidney Thurston,

is accused of the crime of rippin' off certain controlled substances

while trickin' for his employers at Kruger's lab. What's the verdict?

Verdict? What about the fair and adequate defense part?

-Guilty. -Guilty.

-On to sentencing. -Come on! Wait!

The jurors will keep in mind the severity of the crimes,

especially the fact that the defendant cleared a bust

and put his employers in a jackpot with their boss.

Listen, I didn't cop this stuff.

What we're talkin' about was taken to my private lab

for some extracurricular testing.

Well, jurors?

One hundred dollar fine.

Plus, ten pieces of information, gratis.

I'm gonna fight this.

Court's adjourned. The defendant can go.

I'll go.

But next time you need a chemist, call Mr. Wizard.

Geez, Norm.

If you want to know what I decided about discipline--

I don't, I mean...

that's not why I'm here, I just want to talk to you.

-About? -About--

Uh, I'm not happy with...

(soft chuckle)

I had a lot of trouble bein' a cop today, Captain.

I don't just mean the garbage.

We rousted Cullen's men today.

-"We?" -A couple of the guys.

After we talked?

-Yeah. -A roust?

That's something we don't talk about,

but a roust is something we sometimes do.

But after this morning, Captain, when I lost it, uh,

when I lost control, I...

You have the feeling you ran amuck, Officer Hill?

-Yeah, I guess so. -Know that you're a good cop.

-Most days. -Know it.

This is Jensen Collier on location

at the Cullen Drug King funeral procession.

There must have been a couple thousand people there.

Can't really tell from the pictures.

COLLIER (on TV): Try and touch the coffin...

I'm not guessin' from the TV.

COLLIER (on TV): It's difficult to explain why so many...

I hooked school today to check it out.

Does that make me bad?

I'm not too crazy about you're playing hooky.

But no, Fabe, don't go thinkin' bad thoughts about yourself.

I mean, my mother and my sister died from dope.

And there I was chasin' some pusher's funeral like it was a circus.

-Fabe... -(TV turns off)

When I was a kid, um,

a guy got shot at the barbershop down the corner.

Some hoodlum, you know, very big deal.

You know how many Cadillacs were at his funeral?

Eleven.

You know exactly 11?

I know because I was runnin' alongside countin' 'em.

There was 20 there today.

Yeah.

Last year we take two weeks at the beach, rains ten days.

Never fails.

Same thing happened the year before that. Hailstorm, too. Hailstorm in August!

WOMAN (on radio): All units, man with a shotgun sighted at 115th,

-one block south of Dekker, corner house. -(siren wails)

Come on! Hey, look out, man! He's got a shotgun!

-Run! Run! -You kids get outta here!

-(gunshot) -(indistinct)

-(siren wailing) -There he is.

(tires screech)

MARVIN: Come on, you suckers!

-Police! Drop the weapon! -Drop that gun now!

-Watch it! -Sir!

(gunshots)

John! No!

No! (crying)

(police radio indistinct)

We told him twice. Twice, Captain.

Yeah, we-we yelled, "drop the gun," and he wheels on us.

He left us no way to go.

OFFICER: I mean, what the hell? Is he deaf or something?

Yeah, as a matter of fact he was.

Are you serious?

OFFICER 2: Oh, man.

Give your statements to SID, then go take a breather.

Wanna get a beer?

Yeah.

(jazz music playing)

Here's to music.

God love him.

You like jazz?

Sure.

I mean, uh, I don't know if I exactly understand it, but...

if it's music, it's all right with me.

If you don't like it, I can put on something else.

Hey, I love it.

All music.

Especially when somethin' bad's gone down.

Without music, I could lie in bed alone all night long,

doin' instant replays.

You know what I mean?

Yeah, I know all about that.

Patrick, is this wise?

(closing theme playing)