Original subtitles

(door creaks open)

You boys are gonna get yourself quite a sunburn out here,

dressed like that.

DIXON: Only had one pair of cuffs,

didn't want 'em running off on me

while I was waiting for backup.

Knocked over a filling station

just over the Utah state line.

Were they armed? Nope.

Smash and grab from the register.

Arizona state police lost 'em on 91,

put out a BOLO.

And you spotted 'em.

Yes, sir, I did.

Hmm.

Certainly wish you hadn't.

Three states.

If I want to put you boys away here in Nevada,

I got to extradite you from Utah and Arizona.

Lot of paperwork.

I hate paperwork.

So what do we do?

Shoot 'em.

If you won't, I will.

Give me that.

Out here...

nobody's gonna be the wiser.

'Course, we could just, uh...

make sure the money's returned to the rightful owner

and send these boys on their way.

It's probably easier than digging three graves

out in this heat.

Probably.

We gonna have an understanding

that if you're ever caught in my state again making trouble,

you're not gonna leave it alive?

Yes, sir.

Uncuff 'em.

Now, get out of here.

You had 'em going there for a minute.

Ah, it's easier to scare 'em

than it is to jail 'em.

Sometimes there's a difference between law and justice.

I'd have been fine doing all that paperwork, though.

Well, why didn't you say so?

Dr. Safran, wait.

There's a patient

with an emergency.

I told her you were heading out for your lunch break.

Can you fix it?

Come on. You'll be good as new in no time.

Thank you.

You go ahead, Cheryl. I'll take it from here.

No need for us both to miss lunch.

So thank goodness it was just a dress rehearsal--

for the fan dance.

Those feathers make it impossible to see,

so when Darlene stepped upstage instead of downstage,

well, that's when it happened.

Deep breath.

And again.

Do you mind the radio?

("Money" by Barrett Strong begins playing)

* The best things in life are free *

Yeah!

* But you can give them to the birds and bees *

* I need money * That's... what I want *

* That's what I want

* That's... what I want *

* That's what I want

* That's... what I want *

* That's what I want

* That's what I want... *

Frank, if you're sick, you should go home.

I'm okay, Miss Rizzo.

It's just the pastrami. It better be.

Because if you end up with the flu and I end up

with half a count room tomorrow, you're fired.

Who's in charge here?

I am.

Marty Gilson, Gaming Control Board.

Mayor signed a new city ordinance this morning,

authorizing a Gaming Control auditor in every count room

on the Strip. I'll need to examine

any and all records pertaining to the Savoy's gaming business.

Then I suggest you get a warrant. Well, I suggest

you read the ordinance. I don't need a warrant.

Gaming is not a right in this state;

it's a privilege.

And that is an open container.

I got it.

Gonna have to cite you, friend.

Nevada Revised Gaming Statute 463B

clearly states no open containers

in the working area.

Now, that is good work.

BORELLI: Real good. Best I've ever seen,

except for the paint job.

There could be thousands of fakes

running through the cage right this minute.

What are we supposed to do?

Drop every chip in the joint in bicarb?

Only one guy in town I know who could even come close to this

is a crossroader named Jackie Sullivan.

The slot cheat?

Recently, Sully's diversified.

If he's not behind this,

my money says he knows who is.

Find him. Now...

how long do the mayor's eyeshades

plan on hanging around my count room?

For the foreseeable future, it seems.

That's gonna cause a lot of problems back home.

Big ones.

I got Red on a plane to Chicago right now

to explain it to Angelo.

If we don't get the mayor off our backs

and his thugs out of my count room,

it could be the end of everything we've worked for.

I mean, who gives a damn about some fake chips

if there's no more casino?

(elevator bell dings)

Heading out?

I have some business to take care of.

We were supposed to have lunch.

I'm sorry.

Me, too.

You know what?

Forget about lunch.

I'll make it up to you.

Dinner at any restaurant in town.

And you're absolutely sure that something else won't come up?

I made an art form of dining alone in Chicago, Vincent.

You said it would be different here.

Look, I told you I have business.

I'll see you tonight.

Dr. Safran?

Hello?

Is anybody there?

Dr. Safran?

Hello?

Anybody?

No. JACK: All right.

Thank you for your help.

Hygienist says she didn't see

anything suspicious before she left for lunch.

And, uh, the ex-wife's on her way.

What's that?

It's a knife.

On it.

Looks like gold.

As in, gold fillings?

(sighs)

Could be.

Don't know.

What do you got?

Found this in his office.

Turns out Dr. Safran here was quite the gambler.

Guess his luck ran out.

Howard.

VICKY: For years I thought

those hushed phone calls meant he was having an affair.

Then I realized Howard could never

love a woman the way he did a three-team parlay.

Last straw was when he lost what was left

of our son's college fund

on the LSU/Texas A&M game.

That's when I filed for divorce.

You mean it's not final?

No.

We're halfway through the state waiting period.

Three more weeks.

Guess that doesn't matter now.

Howard have a will?

Not that I know of.

JACK: You know, as his next of kin,

you stand to inherit twice as much

as you'd get in the divorce.

All of nothing's no more than half.

Howard was broke.

What about gold?

He keep much in stock?

Not enough worth killing him over.

Maybe $100 worth.

We found this in Howard's desk.

It looks like a record of bets he placed.

Seems he owed his bookie almost $40,000.

That much?

Did you ever hear Howard mention anyone by the name of Pollack?

Pollack? Mmm... no. Why?

Well, it's what he calls his bookie

here in his notes.

See that?

Pollack.

Maybe he meant... you know...

an actual Polish person?

God bless Howard, the man couldn't spell to save his life.

Mayor Bennett.

I'm in the middle of a meeting.

You'll have to make an appointment with my secretary.

See, that's funny. I thought I already had one.

Written on that little memo line on the check

that my casino wrote out to your reelection campaign?

Sir, you heard the man. Five-figure check?

What, have you gone soft in the head?

That would explain all these

crazy new count room regulations.

I'm sure you can understand.

The city and state tax people have to be certain

they're receiving an honest count.

A month ago,

you were walking hand-in-hand down the aisle

with every casino in town.

Now, all of sudden, you've got the Gestapo in here?

I don't get it.

Mr. Savino...

I serve at the pleasure of the people of Las Vegas.

And a lot of those people aren't too pleased

with the way you and your kind conduct business around here.

My kind?

You mean honest, tax-paying citizens?

If you'd like to discuss this at length,

I encourage you to make an appointment with my secretary.

You are going to regret this.

Mark my words.

Mr. Savino, you just threatened a public official.

That's a Class C felony.

Someday, Bennett...

when you're looking back

and wondering where it all went wrong,

it was right here, right now.

SAVINO: We got to get Bennett out of office, and this guy in.

Guy's name is George Grady.

He's the no-name running for mayor against Bennett.

Get me everything there is to know about him.

Find him and bring him to me.

Bennett refused to play ball, huh?

We got to get him out of the game.

But we're running out of time.

There's a debate in two days,

and they're going to put it on television.

We got to find Grady before then

and whip him into shape.

Uh, about the other thing...

You found Sully. Yeah.

Where is he? He's in the men's room.

(muffled shouting)

(gasping, coughing) How about now?

You sure you don't know anything about any bogus chips? Huh?

I swear to God!

Oh, Sully, Sully.

You really want to add blasphemy to your list of crimes?

He ain't talking.

I'm surprised. You're a smart guy.

You name any country in the world,

he'll make you bad bills so good

it'll make the real stuff look fake by comparison.

He's a real artist.

So I suggest you start painting us a picture.

I want to know everything you know about these fake chips.

I'm telling you, if I could make chips this good,

I'd be doing it all over town.

Not here, but...

I'm sorry.

I got nothing.

Throw some cold water in his face.

See if that jogs his memory.

(yells, gurgles)

(phone ringing)

Have a seat.

I've been trying to get this name right,

and I just can't for the life of me.

James... Wisniewski?

Aka Jimmy the Pollack.

You've got quite a record here, James.

It's like reading War and Peace.

You bring me in to talk literature?

Sure.

In fact, I got a story for you.

Guy meets bookie,

guy can't pay debt to bookie,

bookie kills guy.

Sheriff, that's a fairy tale.

A bookie kills a guy who owed him money?

That's just bad business.

So you're saying you didn't kill Howard Safran?

No, I didn't kill him.

And he didn't owe me money.

Not anymore.

He paid off his debt last Tuesday.

All 37-4.

Howard gave you $37,400?

Cash?

Yeah. I was surprised, too.

The guy couldn't even make his payments till last week.

Guess he came into some money.

Got a minute? RALPH: Yeah.

I've been going over Howard Safran's books,

and I found something a little strange.

What? He had a cash surplus of 37 grand?

No, but he had certain regular monthly expenses.

All pretty much what you'd expect,

but there was one thing I couldn't figure out.

Every month, Howard wrote a check for $165

to Oakgrove Property Rental.

Different address from his office.

Maybe his ex-wife is wrong.

Maybe he was keeping a girl on the side.

Mr. Grady, Vincent Savino.

Nice place you've got here, Mr. Savino, top-notch.

Are you a gambler, Mr. Grady?

Me? No.

My business keeps me busy.

Dry-cleaning out on East Bonanza and Charleston.

You ought to come in sometime.

I drove by it,

saw a couple of your campaign posters in the window.

Just about the only ones I've seen in town.

Well, posters are expensive.

I'm putting every penny I can into this, uh...

election.

SAVINO: You're eight points behind.

Now, don't get me wrong.

An unknown challenger against an incumbent mayor,

most cities in this country,

you'd be down 20, 30 points by now.

Any idea why that is?

Bennett's gotten too big for his breeches.

Menus.

You-you don't buy supplies from his cronies,

you get inspectors checking out your sewer lines

for violations.

People are fed up.

Damn right they are.

When Bennett was first elected,

25,000 people lived in Vegas.

Over the past eight years, that number's nearly tripled.

Dreamers, outsiders moving here in droves,

guys like you and me.

Now, Bennett, he's not one of us.

He and his cronies, they'd tar

and feather us and run us out of town

if it was still allowed.

But there's more of us now than them.

Yes, sir, there are.

The good news is you can get their attention.

Turn the whole thing in your favor with the debate.

The key is television.

Now, more people are gonna see you on that night

than in the entire campaign put together.

You come out on top, you could turn this race around.

I like my chances.

I like them better with my help.

Bennett's part of the past of this town.

You want to be part of its future,

then you need me.

And you need me.

SAVINO: You cold? LAURA: No.

Could've fooled me.

You barely said a word at dinner.

I'm just not all that interested in idle chitchat.

You know, I'm sorry about today.

You and I being together all the time,

it's gonna take a while to adjust.

But you said it would be different,

that there would be no secrets.

If all you want is a lovely wife on your arm,

I'm sure there are plenty of silent, fawning girls

around here who would jump at the opportunity.

I'm not interested in those girls.

I should go back to Chicago.

Oh, come on, honey, please.

You and the kids,

I-I'm used to protecting you,

sheltering you from my life, from my business.

You think, if I wanted a sheltered life,

I would've married you?

You really want to know what's going on?

If I can't figure a way to get Bennett out of office,

I could lose the Savoy.

As long as his auditors are in my count room,

I can't get the skim back home.

If he wins this next election, it'll be even worse.

The papers say Grady's only eight points back.

Well, we're running out of time.

Our best shot is this debate in a couple of days.

But I've met the guy.

He's gonna need all the help we can muster.

Well, there's always a way.

You just have to find it or buy it.

That's what my father said is the Cook County way.

Yeah, but this ain't Chicago.

There's no precinct captains to strong-arm.

There's no county commissioner like your father.

I was reading about the Las Vegas Coalition

of Women Voters.

They're hosting an event tomorrow night.

Figured I might go if I find myself dining alone again.

The article said that, as a group,

women did not vote for Bennett in the last election.

So, theoretically,

their votes are up for grabs.

Get them to turn out for Grady.

That's smart.

Worked for Kennedy in the primaries.

Believe me, Grady's no Kennedy.

(chuckles) There's always a way.

Doesn't look like a love nest.

Guess we're late to the party.

Yep.

Find something?

Howard wasn't making fake teeth.

He was making fake chips.

Reckon he bit off more than he could chew.

I guess this explains the gold found on Howard's hands

the night he was killed. Yep.

Not to mention how he managed to pay his bookie.

Who knows how many chips he made before he got knocked off.

Enough to get him in trouble.

You think Savino caught him

trying to pass fake Savoy chips?

That's what I'm gonna ask him.

Great. I'll go with you. Nope.

You stay here. I need you to log that evidence.

Pop...

You said you were fine doing paperwork.

You said that?

Oh, you're an idiot.

There he is.

Sheriff, Deputy.

You know, you boys ought to consider using a telephone

once in a while.

We thought you'd want to hear it in person.

Someone's been making counterfeit Savoy chips.

You wouldn't happen to know anything

about that, would you?

We've spotted a few fakes, yeah.

We're conducting our own independent investigation.

You, uh, know who's behind it?

Local dentist, Howard Safran.

Unfortunately, he's dead.

(chuckles) Unfortunately for him.

Not for me.

My problem is solved.

Uh, not quite, Mr. Savino.

See, someone cleaned out his lab,

took most of his supplies.

Whoever killed him could be churning out

fake chips right as we speak.

Look,

this whole town runs on trust, on the faith

that those chips are as good as cash.

You start getting too heavy with fakes,

you start to undermine that faith.

It's bad.

So bad you'd kill to avoid it?

It's easier just to change out the chips.

It's a pain in the ass and a major expense,

but if things got bad enough,

that would solve the problem.

But you'd want to stop it before it got to that point, right?

Any help you could afford me in that area

would be greatly appreciated.

Is this you asking me for help?

I think this is what we would call

a mutual interest situation.

And I thought I'd seen everything.

I do have another possible lead.

But you've got to give me your word

you won't bust my chops.

Not you.

Just him.

(sighs)

Relax.

Mr. Savino tells me you're the guy they talk to in town

about making counterfeit chips.

Is that right?

Vince, you brought the law?

Nah, he ain't like the real law.

Right, Lamb?

I'm law enough to get you out of here.

But I don't know nothing.

Dr. Howard Safran-- that name ring a bell?

No. Who's he?

A local dentist making bad chips.

A dentist?

Do you know him? No.

But there's this thing I heard about

out of Monte Carlo.

Guys making fake chips out of dental cement.

Real good stuff, they say.

Has the right feel, weight, everything.

You don't see it done much in the U.S.,

'cause you need a license to buy that stuff here.

GRADY: I want to thank you all

for sticking around until the end to hear

my most important position.

Now, I know this goes against popular opinion,

but I cannot be swayed on this.

Salt is clearly more effective on red wine stains

than club soda.

(laughter)

What the hell happened to Grady?

That suit he's got on costs more

than he has in his campaign fund.

How's he paying for this?

That's a very good question.

Sorry I'm late. Oh.

Who is that with Savino?

It's his wife. His wife?

Yeah.

How'd Grady do?

Well, see for yourself.

All these ladies didn't stick around

after the speeches just for

the punch and cookies. (chuckles)

You always had a way of looking at a man

and seeing his potential.

I'm afraid getting him

ready for the debate won't be easy.

We can coach him on

his opening remarks, but locking horns

with Bennett on live television?

It's anybody's guess.

What's with you?

Oh, just enjoying the fresh air.

Feels good to be out in the field for a change,

not at the station, trapped under

a mountain of paperwork.

Don't get used to it.

You sure we got the right place?

Owner confirmed this is the only place around here

to buy professional-grade dental cement.

Next closest source is in Carson City.

Said if he was gone,

the night watchman would let us in.

He ain't letting us in now.

Grab that door.

(flashbulbs click, siren wails)

(indistinct crowd chatter)

Some days, I really miss the ranch.

Owner says the only thing missing is

an industrial-sized case of dental cement.

That makes sense.

Killer knew the molds he stole from Howard

were useless without that stuff.

'Cause he clearly didn't have a license

to purchase medical-grade product,

he kills to get it.

DIXON: Great. Now we've narrowed it down

to someone who isn't a dentist.

Let's narrow it down a little bit more.

Who knew Howard was kiting chips?

Not many people.

He wouldn't be advertising it.

Whoever killed him knew what he was up to.

Could be he had a partner.

I can go talk to Mia Rizzo, maybe check their records

and see who was working

at the time the fake chip was spotted.

That's a shock;

you volunteering to work with Miss Rizzo.

What?

MAN: Get out of the truck!

Please, don't shoot.

Just shut up and get down. Let's go.

Come on.

Put a little hop in the step, cowboy.

I got kids.

And I got hemorrhoids,

but you don't hear me complaining about 'em, right?

Yep. We got the right truck.

Nice.

Okay, you got what you wanted. Just let me go.

Do I look like a guy who's about to kill someone?

I'm chewing gum for God sakes.

Look, for the inconvenience.

Now, get the hell out of here.

What do we got?

We got to hit all the dame hangouts:

nursing schools, beauty parlors, secretarial pools.

You know, some days,

it's a pleasure coming to work.

(R & B music playing on radio)

Whoo. Thank you.

He certainly is handsome, isn't he?

He certainly is.

It'd be a shame if people don't vote for him

just because he's Catholic.

Yes, it would.

But somehow, I don't think it'll be a problem.

These days, how you look matters more than who you are,

and I think Kennedy looks to be our next president.

You think it's that simple?

Well, I also happen to know he has some

very influential friends in the great state of Illinois.

(chuckles) Well, that certainly can't hurt.

I'm Laura.

Katherine. Pleasure.

Likewise.

How you doing?

Compliments of George Grady, running for Las Vegas mayor.

Use your brand-new TV here

to watch him mop up Bennett in the debates, okay?

* The tears I cried for you could fill an ocean *

* But you don't care...

JACK: We know Howard paid his bookie $37,400 last Tuesday.

So I figure we start on that date, work backwards,

looking for transactions in that amount, right?

But who's to say he cashed in all those chips at once?

Or only that much?

There's no way to know.

We could be here all night.

Worse things have happened.

So, uh...

how long you been interested in hydroelectric power?

Excuse me?

Well, your little field trip

to the Hoover Dam

with our esteemed District Attorney Reynolds?

Figured, you know, you must be

interested in hydroelectricity,

'cause I can't think of any other reason

you'd go out with that guy.

Jerry Reynolds simply offered to show me around town,

and I accepted.

"Jerry." Isn't that the name of a cartoon mouse?

He seems perfectly nice to me.

Not that it's any of your business.

And as far as I know,

his brother didn't beat up my father

and throw him in jail.

So that's one thing he has going for him.

It's the only thing.

(door opens)

SAVINO: Sheriff.

There's been another murder.

Counterfeiter killed a security guard.

At a casino?

Medical supply wholesaler.

And while he was at it, our guy, he stole enough

professional-grade dental cement

to pave a highway between here and LA.

You're going to be buried in fakes before you know it.

It's like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

This is impossible.

Look at these.

"$1,950.

$1,900. $1,950."

All around the same amount,

all cashed in within the same shift.

You add 'em up, and you get, uh...

I don't know, just under 40 grand.

Not exactly what Howard owed his bookie,

but that's real close.

22 of these transactions have

the same cashier code, number 189.

And they add up to...

$37,400 exactly.

Did you just do all that in your head?

Cashiers have to file

paperwork with a name and address

of all transactions over $2,000. It's Savoy policy.

So Howard was being smart;

he didn't want to leave a paper trail.

Jack, it's an internal policy.

There's no way Howard would know. Unless...

whoever was working the window that day

was in on it with him.

Cashier 189. That's it.

MAN: Bang! There it is right there.

(indistinct crowd chatter)

SAVINO: You got no leads on this guy?

RALPH: No.

If I were you, I'd beef up my security.

I'm gonna switch out the chips.

New chips.

Looks good.

RALPH: Wait a minute.

Don't you think he'd know

that you'd eventually switch out all the chips?

Probably.

Seems like he does his homework. Why?

He steals enough cement to make 100,000 fake chips,

but he knows there's no way in hell that he's gonna be able

to cash them in all in one fell swoop.

SAVINO: Yeah, he's gonna have to cash them in

a few grand at a time.

Doesn't make any sense.

Can't take them to the cashier's window.

So there must be some other reason

he'd want all those chips at once.

Guy was dressed in the same uniform,

came at the same time, wheeled the same locked cart

in the vault as the delivery guys always do.

Uniforms, carts, you can get all that secondhand.

Then he pulled a gun. He took those chips

from the cart, replaced them with cash

and wheeled almost 500 grand right out that door.

I want my hands on this guy!

I got to tell you, we have no idea who this guy is.

No, but she might.

SAVINO: Hey! You can't just take her out of here!

I promise you, I can find out who she's working with

a lot faster than you can.

Not a chance.

I want every cashier, waitress, busboy, maid,

anyone who's ever looked at that woman,

in my office in five minutes.

You got two dead bodies on you.

And if you cooperate,

the judge might spare you the chair.

But, you know, you're going to do hard time.

It just depends how much.

I didn't do anything.

I was working when the robbery happened.

You found me at my window.

Uh-huh, the same window you laundered chips from?

My job is to change out tokes.

Over 37 grand's worth?

At $1,900 a pop?

During one work shift?

All from Howard Safran?

I get a lawyer, right?

I thought the name Holly Edwards sounded familiar.

It was in the dentist records we were looking through.

She's a patient of Howard's.

Holly...

look at me.

And I want you to listen,

and I want you to listen good.

We got you paying out fake chips in a casino

that has a fake chip problem.

And all the while, you're a patient of a dentist

who got killed for making fake chips.

It doesn't take a genius.

So say

you're sorry...

and then say the truth.

Sorry.

You're halfway there.

Howard... was my dentist.

He had debt, I had debt.

We thought we could help each other.

He'd make the chips, and I would cash them.

Always under two grand.

Never any names on the paper trail.

It was safe, easy.

Nobody gets hurt.

At least, that was the plan.

Whose plan?

Jesse.

My boyfriend.

He said that it was only a matter of time

before the casino caught on to us,

so we... we needed a big, one-time score.

So he figured out a way

to trade counterfeit chips for cash

without having to go through the cage.

Howard didn't want to do it.

He told Jesse no.

So Jesse killed Howard, he took his molds,

and he started making chips for the heist.

Is that the way it happened?

(quietly): Yes.

Jesse swore to me that he wouldn't hurt Howard.

He swore.

But he did.

Did it ever occur to you that you might be next?

Is this really necessary?

If you look shiny, people watching at home

will think you're sweating.

And why would you be sweating

unless you're nervous, untrustworthy, sickly?

Okay, okay. Right.

That'll be all.

Thank you so much.

Casinos can't just take...

Sir?

Yeah?

Men don't wear makeup.

Hello.

Katherine.

What are you doing here?

I could ask you the same thing.

Well, I'm volunteering for the Grady campaign.

You?

I work for the city.

Oh.

Not for Bennett, I hope.

No.

Grady's looking especially mayoral these days.

Is that your doing?

Well, like I said, people only see what you appear to be.

Well, if you volunteer for his campaign, I can only assume

there's more to Grady than meets the eye.

Oh, there is.

I'd be very interested in learning more about him.

Well, why don't we go to lunch this week?

I'll tell you all you want to know.

That would be perfect.

SAVINO: Hi, Jesse.

I'm surprised you're so young.

I put the word out on the street I was looking for Jesse Lynch,

they were just lining up to roll over on you.

Usually takes longer to make so many enemies.

That belongs to me.

Move.

(crickets chirping, coyote howls in distance)

(Savino chuckles)

I told you I'd find him before you, Sheriff.

You don't get points for knocking down the calf.

You get points for roping him.

It's my gun in his back.

And it's my rifle aimed at your head.

Please don't let him kill me.

Shut up! Shut up!

All right, you got your money.

You've been made whole.

Now hand him over

and be on your way.

Let me ask you something, Lamb.

You got any mountain lions up there on your ranch?

Got a few.

What if one of them came down

and started killing your livestock?

Taking what was yours, out of your house,

off of your son's plate.

You'd kill that lion, wouldn't you?

I'd kill him dead 'cause the law says I can.

Ah, you don't care about the law.

The first time I ever set eyes on you,

you were knocking out half the ground crew at McCarran.

And you weren't even a sheriff yet.

I'd call that taking the law into your own hands.

Which is exactly what you'd do if you were in my position.

The only difference is you hide behind that tin star!

But you know as well as I do,

there's a difference between the law...

(cocks gun)

...and justice.

But killing a man for stealing your money

is not going to serve either one.

So hand him over.

Or I'm taking you downtown, too.

(uncocks gun)

Lynch.

He's all yours.

Fair enough.

MAN (over TV): Tonight's debate is coming to you live from...

Put this back in the vault.

And good work spotting those fake chips.

Thank you.

...starting with the incumbent, Mayor Ted Bennett.

Old guy looks sick,

like he got a fever or something.

Sweaty.

I'm trying to watch.

...and local business owner, George Grady.

Mr. Grady, your opening statement.

GRADY: Ladies and gentlemen,

I, uh... want to thank

my opponent, Mayor Bennett,

for the fantastic job he's done in his eight years in office.

Mayor Bennett's an important part

of this city's past.

But this election is about the future.

America was built by outsiders.

By people who came from someplace else,

giving the best of themselves

to make this the greatest nation in the world.

And that's what I want to do right here in Las Vegas.

I want to give the best that I've got

to make this the greatest city in the nation.

I hope you'll let me try.

Not bad.

It gets better.

MODERATOR: Mayor Bennett?

BENNETT: Thank you, Mr. Moderator.

I'd like to begin by

addressing Mr. Grady's points one by one,

showing that, though his heart,

uh, might be in the right place...

(groans)

Damn thing.

Guess timing's everything.

I'm sorry, Mr. Mayor.

I'm being told we've lost the signal.

Excuse me?

The antenna's down.

Oh, for crying out loud, how does that happen?

Technical difficulties?

"Technical difficulties."

Grady came out of the gate pretty good.

Maybe he could've

held his own against Bennett.

Why take a chance?

People always remember the last thing they see.

Captioning sponsored by CBS

Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH access.wgbh.org

(bellows)