All language subtitles for Blue Bloods - S1E20 - All That Glitters.en

(low, indistinct chatter)

WOMAN:
So...

what did you think?

Well, who knew

that beef lollipop
and foie gras mousse and mint

could be so delicious.

You're making fun of me.

No, I loved it.

Now I see why it's so hard
to get in this place.

I had the best day
today, Maggie.

You should see your face
right now-- you're beaming.

(laughs)
It's all the sun we got

on the water taxi
to Battery Park.

I gotta say, the
Statue of Liberty

from that
perspective...

really was something.

Yeah.
Guys?

Excuse me,
I hate to interrupt

but they want me
to close out for the night.

Oh sure. You need us
to settle up? No problem.

How was everything?
Fantastic.

My wife kept telling me,

Iowa's got nothing like this.

WAITRESS:
That's the state
that grows all the corn?

Or is it potatoes?

Oh, corn.

Though most of what I grow now
is turned into biofuel.

Ethanol.

It's a renewable
energy source.

My husband loves his work.

Cool.

Well, listen,
enjoy the rest of your trip.

For you.

Thank you.

You sure I can't get you
anything else before I go?

No, we're fine.
I am just

going to go and have
my after dinner cigar.

But not right
outside, okay?

Um, smoke gets in:
customers hate it.

But a little ways down
to the left is cool.

I'll be back before
you finish your sambuca.

FRANK:
Hey.
Sorry I'm late.

Well, you said you were
running a half-hour behind,

so that makes you on time.

Long day?

Some eight-hour days
feel like a week.

Yeah.

Anything you want to unload?

How are you?

Me?

Well, I'm headed
for another run-in

with the Port Authority...

Ian Boyd was shot dead today.

Good. Who shot him?

A convenience store owner
he was trying to rob,

but not before he was...

able to kill a young woman
who was also in the store.

She was trying to warn the owner
she saw a gun.

Ian shot her.

She was pronounced dead
at the scene.

I'm sorry.

He should have been behind bars
from the last robbery.

That was a jury's decision.

Yeah, on a case that I lost.

And because I lost it, he
was back on the streets,

and because of that,
a young woman is dead.

You can't tell me

I don't bear
some responsibility for that.

Okay.

Menus or another round?

Both.

(man and woman chatting,
laughing)

Did you try
the monkfish?
I wanted to.

It all sounded good.

I had the bay
scallops...

(three gunshots)

(diners murmuring)
MAN:
What was that?

MAN 2:
Those were gunshots.

They had to be.

What's going on?

Oh, God! Lance, no!

No!

(gasps)
Call 911!

Hurry! My husband's been shot!

All right,
let me get this straight.

The shots ring out,
and after a quick peek

the customers all just go back
to eating their meals,

like nothing happened?
That's what they said.

Must be one hell
of a restaurant--

make you wait around for six
months for a reservation,

then they don't even
let a man getting shot

interrupt their dinner.

What else you got for me?

Well, the victim was a tourist
from Iowa, Lance Olson.

He's at St. Benjamin's Hospital,
with the wife... Margaret.

Shot three times.

All his money
and his credit cards taken.

You find a gun?
No. Not yet.

Keep searching.
And what about the canvass?

Some of the people
were sleeping.

And, uh, the one's
that were awake

apparently didn't think
it was that big of a deal.

Gunshots are not new to
this neighborhood, no matter

how many fancy restaurants
they put on this street.

Canvass again,
just in case

somebody didn't
answer their door.

And widen the search perimeter
for the weapon, okay?
Right.

You know, Jack?

You know what
I can't figure out?

Nice, well lit up
area right here,

nice little bench--
why is the husband over there

smoking next
to a dark Dumpster?

Well, the manager says that's
where they steer the smokers.

Iowan tourist gunned down
in the, uh, Big Apple.

Press is going to eat
this up, so to speak.

Yeah, well, it's
not our problem.
No.

Why are you still up?

Oh, Erin got
some bad new tonight.

You remember the Boyd case?

Sure. Where her eyewitness
got ripped apart on the stand.

Well,

he shot and killed a young woman
in a robbery attempt

earlier tonight, before
the bodega owner killed him.

How's she taking it?

As you can imagine.

Poor baby.

She's successful

because she's so hard
on herself,

but she pays dearly for it.

And I still worry about her
like she's...

Like she's your own kid?

Does that ever go away?

Not really.

I'll make
some coffee.

(phone chimes, vibrates)

Well, if I wasn't
awake, I would be now.

What happened?

A tourist was shot on
the Lower East Side.

He's critical.

(knocks on door)

Mrs. Olson?

Detective Reagan.
My partner, Detective Curatola.

He just got out
of surgery.

(sniffles) They think
they stopped the bleeding,

but they said it was...
very bad.

(indistinct announcement
over P.A.)

Uh...

We know it's a trying
time for you.

We need to ask you
some questions,

and we're hoping
that you can help us.

What am I going to do
if he doesn't pull through?

We understand you were
the first person

to find your husband
after he was shot.

Did you see anyone,

anything, anybody follow him
out of the restaurant?

I heard the gunshots
and I ran outside.

My husband was lying
on the ground.

It's my fault.

I dragged him here.

I came her with my girlfriends,
shopping and seeing shows,

and... I love it here.

And I wanted him to,
as well.

Um, Mrs. Olson, um...

when you were outside,
did you see anything?

A car? Anyone around?

I don't know.

Right when I was coming out,
somebody passed me.

Did you get a look at them?

It happened so fast.

Was it a man,
a woman?

Did you see
what they were wearing?

Were they short? Tall?
Man.

He had on one of those, um,
sweatshirts with a hood.

Do you know what color?

Blue? It was dark colored.

How about his face?

He had the hood up.

I didn't get a good look,
because Lance...

Mrs. Olson, the manager
of the restaurant

said that your husband
paid a very large bill in cash.

Is it typical for him
to carry a lot of cash around?

He likes to pay cash.

He says
businesses appreciate it.

Okay, so he had a
lot of cash on him.

Who would have known that?
Today? Yesterday?

We got in...

We stayed in the room
at the hotel all night.

This is kind of
a second honeymoon.

We've been married ten years.

The bellman.

The... cabdriver.

The waitress
at the restaurant tonight.

Lance gave her
a really nice tip.

That's Lance.

Nice to everyone.

You've been very helpful.

We'll find out who did this
to your husband, Mrs. Olson.

Thank you.

Caucasian male,
approximately 74 years old.

Fixed posterior...
Condition the body's in;

he's been dead at least a day,
I would say.

...gauge syringe
found on the body.
Hundreds of
people walk by,

and nobody bothers
to call, you know?

Guess they figure
he's homeless; who cares?

But he was someone's loved one.

Figure... just being human
should earn you better.

Right? I mean...
Yeah.

Excuse me, Dr. Trent?

Reagan, it's our
second crime scene,

you can call me Laura.

Uh, Laura, I was
just wondering, um,

are you writing it up
as natural causes?

Well, insulin found
on the body

initially indicated
complications

arising from diabetes.

But neon green fluid
in the mouth cavity

could be antifreeze.

Have to wait on the
tox screen, though.

So you're calling it a homicide?

Preliminarily.

Lots to learn back at the lab.

So it's totality
of circumstances.

Exactly. Why are you
so interested?

I'm only on the job
six months,

so I figure
the best way to learn

is to... ask questions
of smart people.

Well, you're right.

Ask questions,
keep an open mind,

work hard.

I appreciate you taking
the time, Dr.... Laura.

Keep up the good work, Reagan.

Thanks. I'll try.

Attaboy.
(clears throat)
What?

Shame on you, Reagan.
What?

Hitting on a doctor,
over a body?

Do you also flirt at funerals?

Hey, I'm just trying
to learn, okay?

You-you-you jealous
somebody else

might have something
to teach me?

Knucklehead, go.

(chuckling):
Okay, Sarge.

Can we just jump
right in?

Do you have
another speed?

No, I don't.

Tourism in New York

is a multibillion-dollar
industry,

partly predicated on
a kind of safari model.

They're going to be disappointed

if they don't get close
to the lions and tigers,

but real disappointed
if one of them eats 'em.

It's a fine line.

That's a pretty harsh way
to put it.

Yes, it is,
but that's the version

the press will hammer you on.

This is a safe city.

Not for white Iowa farmer
Mr. Olson,

it turned out,
and he's the story.

I am not going to try

and parse this tragedy
along racial divides.

With all due respect, it's not
going to be your choice.

The elephant's
already in the room.

I can speak to the facts.
I don't have to join the circus.

Frank, whether you like it
or not, you're going to have

to play to the house
on this, just a little.

Just enough to show that
you share the outrage.

I do, Garrett.
A man was murdered.

You know what I mean.
I hate that
you know what you mean.

I'm just doing my job.

I hate that, too.

I can stall until Monday

without looking
like we're stalling.

(sighs)

The press conference
must be timely,

but independent
of any progress on the case.

There can be no rush
to judgment here.
Done.

Thank you.
Welcome.

All right. Thanks.

Well, we can forget
about the cabdriver.

He picked up
two fares after

he dropped the Olsons
at the restaurant,

and his GPS shows him in Yonkers

at the time of
the shooting.

Well, this waitress--
I don't know what to say.

I mean, she has no record,
but we can't find her anywhere.

She won't answer her phone
or her door.

Well, she's a possible, though.

Mm-hmm.
I mean, she works
in the restaurant.

She sees Mr. Olson
pull out all that cash,

she calls an accomplice,
Mr. Olson goes outside to smoke.

Accomplish shows up,
boom, it all goes bad.
Right.

Well, I have her employee record
from the restaurant.

I'm thinking maybe
an emergency contact

can help us out
somewhere.

What about the armed robberies
in the neighborhood?

Four of them in
the last year.

Two of them went unsolved,
one guy's still in Rikers,

and the fourth one,
Brian Stratton, walked

because the, uh, victim
never showed up.

Wait. You said Brian...
Brian Stratton?

Yeah. Why?

Brian Stratton's
her emergency contact.

The waitress?
Yeah.

You kidding me?
Yeah.
Wait one sec.

And look at this.

His number was called from
the, uh, the restaurant phone

just before she clocked out.

Our possible
just became a probable.

(loud techno music playing)

Door's open.

Looks like we're
invited to the party.
Yup.

(loud music continues)

Think they're rolling
on E?
The love drug?

This should be easy then.

Hey, you Ecstasy heads.
Hey, you two.

Get down. Get down.

(phone ringing)
You want to dance
your way out of here?

Oh, yeah, totally.

Yeah? All right. NYPD.

(bangs cabinet, music stops)

NYPD, morons.

You're coming with us for
questioning in an assault case.

Make that questioning
in a murder case.

Lance Olson just died.

What do you know.

Get some clothes on.

(reporters shouting questions)

Do you have family
coming from Iowa?

Mrs. Olson has suffered
a terrible loss.

She will have the full resources
of the city at her disposal.

The person responsible
for this heinous crime

will be brought to justice.

You have my word, and that of
the District Attorney's Office.

Now, excuse me.
Do you have
any idea who did this?

Your sister's
on the case?
Oh, yeah.

Do you Reagans ever
take a day off?

Not if we can help it.

What about those yo-yos
we brought in,

the waitress and her boyfriend--
they back down to earth yet?

We'll find out.
Which one you want?

Uh, I'll take the dancer.

Since you already had
your turn with him.

Ha-ha. Funny.

You ever been
to prison, Maya?

'Cause, I mean,
they got no Ecstasy there.

Nothing to make the mean people
suddenly turn nice.

You follow me?
I know.

Hmm. So what was your plan, hmm?

A little bump and grab,
get what you can?

But you didn't have any
idea Brian was gonna
bring a gun along.

There was no gun!

All we did was go score some E.

She called me to pick her up,
that's it.

Right, right, right.

Fancy electronics,
couple hundred weekly on E.

Money for that's got
to be coming from somewhere.

We didn't jack anyone.

You know what?

Maya's probably already
told my partner

everything he needs to know,

and she's probably got
a sweet deal.

Guess you're not getting one.
DANNY:
Come on, Maya.

Just talk to me, all right?
I promise, you'll feel better.

You'll go easy on the drugs
and everything?

I'll see what I can do,
talk to the ADA,

but you need to tell me
the truth right now.

How we get extra cash is,
every once in a while,

I get a bunch of customers'
numbers and sell them.

Credit card numbers?

The guy I work with
waits before using them

so it doesn't track back to me.

Okay. Now what about
the shooting?

We had nothing to do
with that murdered guy.
Come on, Maya.

Brian picked me up, and we went
to East River Park to score.

Come on.
That's it, I swear.

Did you see anyone
outside that restaurant?

No.

But a couple
blocks away,

we saw this black guy
tearing down the street

in a hoodie, maybe blue.

We nearly ran over
him on Brian's Vespa.

We almost hit this crazy
black dude with my bike.

Does that help?

DANNY:
Do your remember him
well enough

to work
with our sketch artist?

Waiting tables,
you get a good memory for faces.

I hope you're telling the truth,
'cause if not,

you're gonna remember this face
for a long time.

(door closes)

FRANK:
Extra uniformed officers

and anticrime teams
have already been rotated

into the popular tourist areas

in the Lower East Side,
and other neighborhoods

that are famously our city's
nightlife destinations.

REPORTERS:
Commissioner? Commissioner?

Isn't that a case of too little,
too late, Commissioner?

No, it's question of
reacting appropriately

to a tragic incident
that occurred in this city.

I would like
to stress this here.

We have seen no uptick

in any of the metrics

that we depend on
that says to me

that the death of Mr. Olson
was part of a trend

or wave or whatever term
you choose to overlay on it.

REPORTER:
Commissioner?
Yes.

You yourself have ordered
an increased police presence

in exactly the kinds
of neighborhoods

where this murder took place.

So that our citizens
and visitors alike

could enjoy an added
sense of security.

And I didn't hear
a question there. What's next?

Here's my question,
Commissioner.

Can you honestly say that...?

If I say it,
it's my honest opinion.

...that the effect
of this brutal murder,

in terms of the profile
of this city and the

$30 billion in tourism revenue
we depend on,

can somehow be minimized

by your department's
comforting statistics?

Are you finished?

Yes, sir.

What we're really talking
about here is

that a well-to-do white male
visiting from the Midwest

was murdered in our city.

Now, with the right kind
of purposeful slant,

you can resurrect
an image of New York

as a city of mean streets
and roaming predators,

one that sells newspapers
and advertising minutes.

But from where I sit,
the death of Mr. Olson,

of two girls from Harlem
in a drive-by shooting,

of an elderly man
from a mugging in the Bronx--

these are all
equally unacceptable,

and we try

every day
to do everything we can

to prevent them
from happening again.

Thanks for coming.

(overlapping shouting)

Those two flakes weren't lying
about their alibi.

I found the drug dealer
in the park

just where they said
he'd be.
Oh.

And he ID'd Brian
and Maya's pictures

out of a dozen
I have here.

Said they show up every
Thursday like clockwork.

Well, I got the artist sketch
of Maya's description.
Mmm.

It's in the hands
of every uniform

and detective
on the Lower East Side.

They're checking it against
surveillance cameras,

dog walkers, stoop sitters,

anybody with eyes
on the streets.

I don't know.

You think this
guy's for real,

or a hallucination
of some stoners?

(phone ringing)
I don't know.

Their alibi held up.

Hold on, partner.

We may be batting
a thousand.

A bodega owner just recognized
the sketch. Let's go.

It's Pierre.

This Pierre--
does he have last name?

No. Just Pierre.

He's Haitian.

Drives a cab
12 hours a day,

then jogs
in the neighborhood afterwards.

You know, I've told him,
a black man

running at night
is just asking for trouble.

He says it keeps him sane.

He comes in for water

and plantain chips
after his run.

Do you know
where he lives?
No. Is he in
some kind of trouble?

Uh, just need
to talk to him.
DANNY:
Look, you say Pierre

drives a cab. You happen to know
which company he drives for?

Steady Cabs.

Real sweatshop.
Hmm.

Pierre says he gets only
80 bucks for a 12-hour shift.

Good. You've been a real help.

I hope so. You know, most
of my customers are a pain,

but Pierre--
he's one of the good ones.

Good to know.

Oh, here's number three.

That's the number that the guy
from the cab company gave us.

WOMAN:
Yes?

Police. Can you open
the door, ma'am?

I need to ask you
a few questions.

What's this about?

We're looking for Pierre Dornay.
Is he here?

Yes. That's my husband,
What's this about?

We need to speak to him, ma'am.
Can you just get him, please?

Pierre, it's the police.
They want to talk to you.

Hey.

Go around, Jackie. Hey!
Yeah.

Hey!

Hey! Stop!

Police!

(grunts)

DANNY:
Hey!

Pierre!

Hold up!

Hold up!

Hey!

Stop!

Where you going?
Where you going?

Get your hands down
and turn around.

Turn around!

I did nothing wrong!

Yeah, right, and
I'm Mother Teresa.

(reporters clamoring)

DANNY:
Oh, and here they come,
the vultures.

The only channel on their police
scanners they care for.

All right, come on.

(reporters shouting questions)

DANNY:
Step back.
I said, move it.

(reporters shouting questions)

Come on!

Step aside.

Come on, innocent people do not
run from the police, Pierre.

In my country, they do.

Is that because
you were a dirty cop,

and so they ran from you?

I did nothing wrong.

Yeah, well, your
record from Haiti says

you were thrown off the
police force for stealing.

That is a lie.

I was trapped in the earthquake
for three days.

I prayed to live.

And a man--

he said that God sent him
to dig,

and so he dug day and night
until he found me.

I knew from that point on,
I must always be a good man.

So when I saw the others
stealing on the force, I told.

They made up their lie
to silence me.

Wow. That's a touching story.

It's the truth.
All right.

Let's say you are
telling the truth.

That would put you about two
blocks from the restaurant

right around the time
of the shooting.

You see anything?
You hear anything?

No. No, nothing of notice.

Except a man
who walked past me.

And what makes him so special?

He walked quick quick.

And he turned his head away

like he purposefully
didn't want to be seen.

Anything else?

His clothes.

Uh, they didn't match.

On top he wore a big hoodie,
and on the bottom

were nice trousers
and shiny leather shoes.

It was strange.

(sighs)

Police got a break
in the fatal shooting

of Iowan farmer and tourist,
Lance Olson,

when a Haitian cabdriver,
Pierre Dornay,

was taken into custody
for the brutal murder

of the heartland visitor
to New York City.

Lance Olson,
a pioneer in the development

of sustainable biofuels...

All right, well,

the wife didn't want to tell me,
but since she lost her job

Pierre's been more and more
desperate for money.

I'm thinking this is a guy

in the wrong place
at the wrong time, Jack.

Two witnesses put him running

from the scene of the crime
just after the shooting.

Where he apparently jogs
every night.

And when we go to talk to him,
the guy dives out the window.

Come on, Danny,
that's guilty as hell.

I know he looks guilty, Jackie,
but it doesn't feel right.

Come on, maybe
it's a coincidence.

Look at the media:
"The heartland pioneer

attacked by
the scary immigrant."

I mean, they're throwing
this guy to the wolves.

Doesn't feel right.

Uh, well, explain
that to your sister.

Detectives, I hear you have
a good suspect in custody.

Well, that's
a matter of opinion,

which at the moment
is split.

You have anything on motive?

They're drowning in debt.

I mean, he has a list of thefts,

although none of them
are violent.

You know, we know
it's a step away
from robbing someone

and hurting them
at the same time.

I think we should
go back to the wife, see if

she can identify
the suspect.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.

She said she didn't get
a good look at the guy.
A statement she made

a few hours after
her husband was shot.

I think we should give her
another opportunity.

Opportunity for what,
to-to make something up?

She said she didn't get
a good look at the guy.

To tell us whether
upon further reflection

she can identify a suspect.

Of course she can identify
the suspect now.

His face is all over
the TV. Come...

If she identifies
Pierre now, it's gonna

have stink on it,
and you know it.

Look, we have a visitor
to this city

who in one moment is

holding hands with
her husband across dinner

and a few hours later,
he's dead.

I think she should
have the chance,

if she can, to put
the man responsible away.

Okay.

Doc.

Got more questions?

I have a favor to ask.

I'm listening.

I've misplaced my memo book,
uh, containing my notes

from the homeless man scene.

(slow mocking gasp)

Did the dog eat
your homework, Officer?

I wish. Um...

(chuckles)
it's gonna make me look

like that big of a jerk
if I have to...

ask my boss
to log me onto the system

to get the information
for the reports.

(smacks lips)
Yeah, that doesn't look good.

No, it doesn't.

So I was wondering if, um...

if I'd log you in here?

Makes you a hero and me just
a little bit less of a jerk.

You're lucky I have
a soft spot for rookies.

I owe you one.
Hm.

Favor from a rook might
not mean much, but...

Hey, you never know.

*

You say he spoke
his mind; I say he

shot himself in the foot.

Then let's just agree

to disagree, shall we?

The mayor would appreciate

a clarifying statement.

Every reporter there
understood exactly

what he was talking about--
there's nothing

to clarify or rescind,
end of story.

The mayor requested it,
end of story.

Okay, here you go:
"The commissioner regrets

"that in his statements
to the press

"he didn't emphasize
the need for visitors

"to exercise reasonable caution
in emerging neighborhoods

"where the underprivileged
are being pushed out.

Oh, here you go.
"Where a bodega
that still

"takes food stamps
sits next to a restaurant

"that gets 50 bucks a plate

for mac and cheese."
How's that?

Okay. I give up.

But the mayor won't.

Thanks for dropping by.

(door closes)

You're an idiot.
Thank you.

She's right, you know.
No, I don't know.

Your position won't be
compromised by embracing

the fact that tourism
is good for New York City.

Equating the murder
of a white, wealthy tourist

to an old man mugged
in the Bronx...

That is not what I said,
and you know it.

I know it's how
it was perceived.

Only by someone
who didn't bother to listen.

The mayor listened!

We're done here, Garrett.

(sighs)

I'm Detective Reagan,
ma'am.

This is, uh...

Erin Boyle, with the Manhattan
District Attorney's Office.

I'm Margaret's sister, Leslie.

We were hoping to speak
to her if we could.

Come on in. She's resting.

This is my husband, Mark.

And...
I'm Carl Perry,
friend of the family.

He was kind enough
to fly us here.

I'll go get Margaret.

(clears throat)

DANNY:
So, uh...

you two from Iowa also?

Yeah. We're, um...

we haven't had a murder
in my hometown

for five years, Detective.

You lure people here
with your glitzy advertising,

and then put

a fancy restaurant
in a hellhole...

while the armed criminals
roam the streets.

You guys just get in
or something?

MARK:
Yeah, this morning,
and, uh,

we're just staying long enough
to get my brother-in-law's body

and fly him back home.
All right,
all right, Mark.

Take it easy, all right?
They're here to help.

How are you doing?

I'm numb.

Mrs. Olson,
we could use your help,

if you're up to it.

You said that you
didn't clearly see

the face of the man who
was running from your husband

after he was shot.

Has anything come back to you?

I don't think so.

We'd like to put you

in front of a lineup to see if
anything would jog your memory.

They said that you
arrested somebody.

Did you see any of that
on the news?

No. I can't bear to watch it.

Do you think you could
handle the lineup?

I'll do anything to put
Lance's killer behind bars.

Okay.

Let's go.

All right, I want
you to take a look

at all the men in this lineup,

tell me if you recognize
any one of them.

(gasps)

Number five.

Number five.
I recognize him.

Okay, where do you
recognize number five from?

That's the man I saw
running away from Lance

after he was shot.

She picked him.

She got lucky.

We have two independent
witnesses that corroborate.

Come on, we just
served this guy up

on a silver platter for her.
Well, then

he'll have 20-to-life
to commiserate

with all the other murderers
who insist they're innocent.

(sighs heavily)

But I read that eyewitness
testimonies are responsible

for a lot of wrongful
convictions.

Yeah, but that
cuts both ways.

Sometimes it's the
closest account to
what actually happened.

HENRY:
And the best shot
at making your case.

Jurors hear what happened
from a layperson, they perk up.

Which is fine, Grandpa,
as long as the witness

really saw what
they say they did.

She lost her husband-- what
is she gonna gain by lying?

I don't know.
But all I do know is,

first she said
she didn't see a face,

then suddenly she saw a face,

and of course, it turns out
to be this guy
All right.

who's plastered
all over television.

Oh, Mom let us watch TV

when you arrested
that man.

He looks like a bad guy.

What do you mean, he looks
like a bad guy, sweetie?

You know, scary.

DANNY:
Boys, listen.

We've all arrested guys--
bad guys

and scary guys, okay?

But you can't tell
if a guy's bad or not
just by looking at him.

I mean, we put a guy
in handcuffs

and we walk him in front
of the news cameras,

sometimes they
look very scary,

and it's really just because
they're scared themselves.

Oh.

Dad, you want to
weigh in on this?

Yes, I do.

The lamb was perfect.

HENRY:
Too bad they didn't have lamb

at your press conference,
Francis.

Whoa, Poppy.

Just telling it like it is.

For what it's worth, sis,
I think you're the one

in the most difficult
position here.

Oh, actually,
it's the Haitian guy

who's in the worst
position here.
I'm clearing.

I like these cabinets;
they're original to the house.

Cool it.

I know you two are supposed

to be all grown up,
but humor me here.

Danny...

what makes you think
this guy is innocent?
I don't know if

he's innocent, Dad--
I just think

with all the pressure
on this case,

the guy could use
a devil's advocate

on the inside.
This guy gave us a clue

that only a good cop
would know, Dad.

Well, does that point you
towards another suspect?

It opens the door
to the possibility

that maybe this wasn't
just another street crime.

Erin.

He's got motive, opportunity.

The wife puts him

practically tripping
over the body.

I don't know why Danny
wants to complicate this.

And I don't know why
you're so hot for this guy.
He's an ex-cop

with a hard-luck story.

Sympathize with him
all you want,

just don't let it
cloud your judgment.

I'm not.

Yeah, you are.
Erin.

You can't undo what
happened with Ian Boyd.

I'm not...
Not with this case,

not with any case.

You think

I'm rehashing that here?

Two felony murders,
grieving relatives--

you tell me.

You're not gonna
back off of him, are you?

If he's the guy, I want him
as bad as anybody else,

including you.

And if he's not,
I'd love some solid evidence.

You'll get it, by the book.

I'll hold off on the indictment.

Well...

You know, when Jamie was born,

we tried to move you two
into the same room.

You remember that?

Sort of.

Well, we couldn't
afford it,

but the very next day,

your mom and I started looking
for a bigger house.

True story.

Come on in.

You wanted
to talk to me?

We, uh, just wanted to tie up
a few loose ends, Mrs. Olson.

Will this take long?

I need to meet everybody
to sign the transfer permit

so we can take
Lance's body home.

You know, we're just looking
at this case from every angle,

you know,
before we wrap it up.

You see, all along,
we've looked

at this as a crime
of opportunity,

but we wanted
to at least consider the fact

that maybe it wasn't random.

What do you mean?

Well, maybe somebody wanted
to harm your husband--

business associate, an enemy?

Lance doesn't have
any enemies.

Hmm.
JACKIE:
So, this morning
we revisited

your husband's phone records,

especially while he was here
in New York, but we decided

to go back
a few months,

and there's a lot of calls
to a, uh, Carl Perry.

Carl?

He and Lance
did business together.

You're not suggesting he had
something to do with this?

You know,
Mrs. Olson,

this would be a really good time
for you to be frank with us.

You see, when we accessed
Carl's phone records,

we noticed a
lot of calls

to your home

at times that your husband's
calendar show he wasn't there.

JACKIE:
And your credit card
records show three weekends

at a Hotel Mandolin--
pretty romantic place,

and you weren't
with your husband.

We have the
hotel confirming

right now that you were
actually with Carl.

DANNY:
You want to
talk about it,

Mrs. Olson?

My husband was away so much,

so consumed by his work,

and Carl...

he thought
he was in love with me.

(sniffles, sighs)

It was so wrong

and-and stupid,
but I broke it off

and I swore to myself
I'd make it up to Lance.

That's what this trip was about.

I asked you
before,

do you really think Carl
could do something like this?

No, it's impossible.

Well,

jealousy is a strong motive,
Mrs. Olson.

You never really know
what someone is capable of.

JACKIE:
Thanks very much for coming.

Come with me.

(sighs)

What's up?
Is he sweating?

Well, he's trying
not to show it.

You get anything useful
out of her?

Well, they met at a dinner
for Lance's biofuel investors.

Apparently there was a spark
she just couldn't ignore,

and then at that Hotel Mandolin,
where the two of them

Yeah, yeah.
were canoodling last year,

she learned that
Carl was a junkie

for champagne and
breakfast in bed

and, uh, partial to bacon,
extra, extra crispy.

All right, let's see
if we can use it.

Mm-hmm.

This list of Lance's
business associates

will be very helpful.
Thank you.

You're welcome.

One other thing.

You're a pilot. I
mean, you pilots--

y-you prepare for
emergencies, right?

You do, like,
dry runs.

You don't want anything
to happen

that you're not prepared for.

Right, so hypothetically if
you wanted to kill someone,

say someone like Lance,
you'd probably do

a dry run, wouldn't you?

What are you saying?

Well...
No, this is crazy.

I don't have to hear this.

You're going to
hear everything

I got to say.

Why would I kill Lance?

Because you love his wife.

That's what Margaret's telling
my partner in the other room.

In fact, she's saying a whole
lot of things about you.

Let's see, she's talking
about the Mandolin Hotel

and champagne,
breakfast in bed,

and how you like
crispy bacon

and, uh, yeah, talking
about the dry run you did.

Here's a receipt.

It's your receipt
from one month ago--

the same restaurant
where Lance was killed.

Imagine that.

I came to N-New York
on a business deal

and I met with Ray Lawrence
and we went to dinner.

Why don't you ask him about it?

I did.

He said you chose
the restaurant.

I don't know
where to eat around here.

He suggested a few places
and we decided on this one.

So how about
the waiter--

the waiter who you asked

where somebody would go
if they wanted to smoke?

Lance smoked, didn't he?

So I come from Iowa to New York

and I eat at the same restaurant
and I have a smoke.

What's that prove?

(bangs table)
I'll tell you what it proves.

It proves everything
that Margaret is saying--

that you wanted to be with her

and you wanted to have
Lance's money, too.

I know
what you're trying to do.

Do you?
(door opens)

How's it going in here?

Well, that's up to Carl here.

You got a big decision
to make, Carl.

Your girlfriend's in there

saying that you planned
the whole thing

and she begged you
not to go through with it.

Isn't that her
story, Detective?
In a nutshell, yeah.

She's very convincing.

Oh, yeah, she had
to be convincing.

I mean, she convinced you
to kill her husband and she

convinced two seasoned
detectives that her sob story

was true.

It'd be a real
shame if she pulled

this one over on you, too, Carl.

You're lying to me.

You're trying to manipulate me.

(sighs)

Okay, so Margaret gets
her freedom and Lance's money,

and you get 25 to life.

Unless, of
course, you got

some information that
contradicts her story

'cause we could
just recommend

that you're the one
that gets the deal here.

(door opens)

I really need to get back
to the hotel.

No, you really
need to sit down

for what we have
to say to you.

Sit down.

Your boyfriend Carl
has been chatting it up

in the other room.

He just confessed
to shooting Lance.

Oh, my God.

Carl shot Lance?

Why?

She's good, huh?

(sighs)

Remember this?

You recognize it?

It's Carl's phone.

Wow, that's the first
honest thing you've said.

DANNY:
What about this?

You recognize this?

MARGARET (over phone):
It's done, babe.

You'll fly my sister here,

everyone will feel
so sorry for me,

and then we'll be home free.

(sighs)

That isn't what it sounds like.

Sure, it is-- it's your voice,

and there's plenty more
where that came from.

JACKIE:
You traded in
Lance for Carl,

except Carl--
he had an ace in the hole.

He kept a few choice messages
of yours.

All that happy anticipation
about spending Lance's money,

just without Lance.

You know... I really hate
when people do bad things

and blame it on my city.

I want a lawyer.

That's the second honest thing
you've said.

Get me a lawyer!

(sighs)

Just needs your signature.

"For immediate release.

"The police commissioner today
reluctantly announces

the unexpected resignation..."

Long planned resignation.

"...long planned resignation
of Deputy Commissioner

of Public Information
Garrett Moore."

I know what it says.

I particularly like
the part right here

about

"exploring
new avenues."

Makes unemployment sound...
exciting.

Glad you approve.

"Signed, Frank Reagan,
Commissioner."

All in all,
much better than the last one.

Do you have a pen?

(sighs)
It pains me

to do this, I want you to know.

Patrick.

Duignan neat,
water back,

on my pal here.

You cheap bastard,
on my salary?

At least you still got one.

Oldest story in the book,
you know.

The lovers

kill the husband for his money.

You came here to gloat?

Well, I could.

That'd make me
a lousy brother, though.

On the other hand,
if I came to tell you that

Nicky was with Linda
and the boys

and I got us a corner table
at Chops, well...

I could use a scotch
and a steak.

I figured you could.

Since I kicked your ass
this time.

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