The homeowner, Doctor Alvin Taylor,
became alarmed when he heard a prowler in here.
He got his.38 revolver from the glove compartment of his car,
which was parked out in the street.
He entered the garage...
- And gunfire, as they say, ensued. - Dr Taylor was hit in the hip.
- Where did they take him? - Mercy.
- This look like a burglar to you? - Cat burglar, maybe.
Dig the Gucci pumps.
- Was there any ID on the deceased? - No, I did a pat-down.
Nothing in her pockets, no wallet, no purse.
- He's famous, you know. - Who, Taylor? I never heard of him.
Local hero, sports medicine. His wife's famous, too.
A famous dermatologist? I doubt it.
How did you know she was a dermatologist?
Vanity plates.
C- M-P-L-X-N-M-D?
Yeah, complexion doc.
You know, "If u cn rd this, u cn get a gd job."
Let's go talk to her. Maybe she can recommend a good wrinkle cream.
Thank you.
Apparently your husband shot the woman who wounded him.
Apparently? Isn't it obvious?
We don't like to jump to conclusions till we have the facts.
Is he in trouble?
Not if it was in self-defence.
So what happened here tonight?
Alvin went out to the garage to get something from the freezer.
I heard gunshots.
When he came back in, he was bleeding. He'd been shot.
Said he thought he wounded a prowler, a woman.
He wasn't sure.
It was dark.
He was confused and frightened.
We don't know if she was a prowler, not yet.
- Er, do you recognise her? - Why would I?
Maybe she's a neighbour. You might have seen her around.
Take a look. It's not graphic.
Oh, no.
Oh...
- Do you know her? - Mary.
It's my sister, my baby sister.
They shell out for a new coffee room.
You'd think they'd spend a nickel on better joe.
Same old strange brew.
It's been a month and I still can't wrap my mind around the layout.
I'm thinking I'm in the wrong squad room.
It's like this dream I had when I was a kid.
First day of school, wandering around looking for the right classroom.
People are staring at me and this girl I had a crush on is laughing at me.
I realise I didn't get dressed. All I have on is my shoes and socks.
- Black socks? - Argyle.
- I had that dream. - Everybody has it.
It's the human condition in a nutshell. Did you hear from the bank?
- They were supposed to call. - They'd better. Waterfront's falling apart.
The freezer's down, the pump is shot.
It takes longer to draw a pint than to brew one.
Relax, Munchkin. It's a lock.
It's 5K, lunch money. They'll be honoured to loan it to us.
- I hope so. - You floating a loan?
- Yeah, capital improvements. - Emergency repairs.
- It ain't that bad. - You go in the kitchen?
The kitchen is immaculate. You could eat off the floor.
Right.
Pay day. Read 'em and weep.
So what happened when I...
...when I left you and Rene last night? - Nothing.
She gave you a ride home, didn't she?
Let me just explain something to you.
Me and her had a talk. Two mature adults sat down and we had a little chat.
Both agreed: No hanky-panky, no hoochie-coochie.
No dipping the pen in the company ink well. We're strictly professionals.
Yeah.
- Am I right, Rene? - What?
- Partners, me and you. - You bet you.
- Buddies. You got my back, I got yours. - Yeah.
All this male plumage on display is for your benefit.
I see anything I like, I'll send up a flare.
Right.
Hey, Ballard, M-Gee.
Front page of "The Sun". Way to go.
Alvin Taylor is one hotshot sports MD.
- Doctor to the stars. - We know.
He was Sugar Ray's cut man.
- Sugar Ray Leonard? - Sugar Ray Falsone!
Get outta here.
- My Golden Gloves moniker. - And Taylor was good?
- The best. - You were kind of a bleeder, huh, Paul?
I took a couple stitches. How come Gharty's not working this week?
He's taking some personal time. He and Flora split up, you know.
My heart goes out.
Ballard! Giardello! In my office.
Giardello?
When my dad called me by my last name, I was about to be grounded.
You've never had a Giardello summons, the laser beam Gee Ray?
Strips varnish off furniture, enamel off teeth?
Not yet.
Well, you're in for a treat, Rene.
Oh, man, that's it. I'm leaving this country.
- What, bad news? - I've been levied by the IRS.
I'm moving to Bolivia.
Go on.
Suzanne Taylor has no idea what her sister was doing in the garage with a gun
or why she shot her brother-in-law.
- Have you talked to Alvin Taylor yet? - He had surgery last night.
We're going to the hospital now.
And the dead woman, the wife's sister?
Nothing so far.
I hate nothing. Gharty's not back till Tuesday.
- Work this case. - I already am.
- Ballard's the primary. - I understand that.
Despite her fresh-faced appearance, she's a savvy detective.
- You might learn something. - I'm sure I will.
- Mike caught the call, so... - I don't care.
He's here as the liaison with the FBI.
He's not a Baltimore detective. He cannot be the primary.
- Got it. - Michael?
I heard you twice the first time.
You didn't pay your taxes.
I did. My accountant just failed to file them.
That's the problem. He's your cousin.
- And the bar's accountant. - That's what worries me.
What were you thinking about?
Did you forget? "What is it, 15 April? I got to do somethin' today."
I don't care if you go to jail. I hope he's paid the bar's taxes.
- Ruin our credit rating. - Don't worry, we'll get the damn loan.
We'd better or we're gonna be out of business before the end of the year.
Bayliss, don't give me any Zen song and dance
about how money, tax, the IRS are an illusion.
No, on the contrary, John, money is Mara, the destroyer.
The evil one.
This is where they brought me when I ate a blue crab
and developed a sudden allergy to shellfish.
You went to hospital for an allergy?
I went into anaphylactic shock and stopped breathing, huh?
This is one tough town, man.
In one year I have almost died from eating a local delicacy,
I got shot in the ankle at my own desk,
not to mention my blind dates.
- Nurse Tindeco? - Hey, Detective. How are you?
I read about the shootout last May.
- Oh, I'm fine. Full recovery. - That's terrific.
- Staying away from crustaceans? - The ones that can't buy me a drink.
- Is your partner back on the job yet? - He's just taking a personal day...
- We're here to see Alvin Taylor. - Room A, down the corridor.
Tell him to call me.
We were watching a video, "Dark Victory" with Bette Davis.
Suzanne asked me to get her some ice cream from the freezer.
So I went out. I heard the neighbour's dog barking.
Door to the garage was ajar.
I got my gun out the glove compartment of my car and eased inside.
Somebody was hiding behind Suzanne's car.
Whoever it was stood up and aimed at me.
We both fired.
And you didn't recognise her?
Happened so fast.
I mean, she disappeared behind the car. I didn't know if I'd hit her or not.
So I dragged myself in the house. Suzanne called the police.
Do you have any idea why your sister-in-law would be in the dark
with a 9mm in her hand?
None. I'm completely mystified.
- You got along with your sister-in-law? - Sure. You know, in-laws.
Not quite kith, not quite kin.
- So, no animosities? - Absolutely none.
No recent arguments? No long-standing grudges, no suppressed resentments?
I believe I answered your question, Agent Giardello.
- How's your marriage? - My marriage?
My marriage is superb.
I love my wife. We're devoted to one another.
Weapon that you fired, the.38-calibre Colt?
Bought it last April. There'd been some break-ins in the neighbourhood.
I am so angry with him for buying that gun.
I told him this is what happens when you keep firearms around,
this sort of tragic, senseless, stupid accident.
If he thought there was a prowler in the garage,
why didn't he wait for the police?
- Well, your sister had a weapon, too. - You're assuming it was hers?
A 9mm semi-automatic Glock was found lying on the floor next to her body.
I thought you didn't like to jump to conclusions.
We're testing for fingerprints.
- Fingerprints can be forged. - Forged?
- Transferred from one object to another. - That would take expertise.
Why would anyone go to the trouble?
To frame someone, of course.
If we find your sister's fingerprints, it's a frame-up?
That'd be my assumption.
Are you saying she didn't shoot your husband?
If it wasn't her gun, she couldn't have shot him, could she?
If she didn't shoot your husband, who did?
I don't have an explanation for what happened.
Perhaps you ought to speak to my husband again.
"Physician convalescing, sister-in-law shooting under investigation."
Oh, this guy's got friends in high places.
He's massaged the Mayor's calves, sewn up the Governor's Achilles.
We gotta put this down fast, or we are gonna end up on the pawn shop squad.
Do you think he thought it was a burglar?
- What if he knew it was her? - Gave him an excuse to shoot.
Why? He said they got along.
Maybe they were having an affair and he lured her there
and found a pretext to pop her.
- What about her gun? - Maybe she was suspicious of him.
Besides, who says that it was her gun?
You never heard of a throw-down piece?
Well, his wound was fairly minor.
Minor wounds are those that happen to other people.
I meant that it could have been self-inflicted.
- That's where the wife was going. - What a piece of work. Frame-up.
- What's that about? - She's distraught at her sister's death.
Can't believe her baby sib would do anything shady.
Still, her husband's in hospital, recovering,
and she's busy casting blame at him.
- Sound like a superb marriage? - Sounds average to me.
- I don't know. I've never been married. - Neither have I.
I have, three times.
I'm just a cock-eyed optimist at heart.
- How's Gharty doing? - He says he's fine.
Which worries me.
I can't believe divorce is that easy, especially after 20 years.
It ain't, believe me.
Even for a couple who can't wait to split the sheets. Tears you up.
Poor Gharty. The Irish have a tendency to internalise their emotions,
unlike us Mediterranean types.
Repression.
It makes 'em prone to nervous breakdowns, alcoholism, ulcers.
I'd keep an eye on him if I were you.
Father's Day, birthday, Christmas, every freaking year.
Father's Day, birthday, Christmas, anniversary.
You ever entertained the matrimonial fantasy?
- I've been asked. - What did you say?
I said yes, but then I got cold feet. Didn't feel right.
Stivers married? Sheppard? No, both single.
Actually, the entire unit is pretty much a bunch of love disasters.
Falsone's divorced, Gharty and Lewis are getting there,
Bayliss is single, Munch married three times.
My father's a widower, lives alone. Not a solid marriage in the bunch.
Yeah, well, cops are a skewed sample.
What about your folks? Did they have a good marriage?
Define good.
My mother was devoted to my father, waited on him hand and foot.
She was all about him. He was all about the job.
She supported that, so I guess from his point of view it was a great marriage.
- What about from hers? - If he was happy, she was happy.
How old-fashioned.
The Zapruder film is out on VHS and DVD, as if there's a choice.
DVD, definitely.
Gotta have that freeze-frame, stop-action enhancement capability.
We should open a bottle of Zinfandel
and watch it frame by frame and see which ones are missing.
26 seconds of the most compelling footage ever filmed.
The woman of my dreams.
Munch...
- Can't wait. - Neither can I.
- John. - What's the matter? You're shvitzing.
You got a guilty conscience?
Humidity. Could I have a diet root beer, please?
- So, how much do I owe? - 30 grand, give or take.
- 30 grand? - Plus penalties and interest.
- How is that possible? - Remember your bathroom renovation?
Yeah, it cost three times as much as they said it would.
That overage should have gone to pay your taxes instead of your contractor.
That was four years ago.
Once you fall behind, it's hamster on a treadmill. You never catch up.
I thought the new IRS was supposed to be warm and cuddly.
Talk about spin. I begged Whitecastle not to levy your pay cheque,
said it was your only way to pay this off.
But these IRS guys don't listen to logic. Once they get it in for you...
Wait a minute. The IRS has it in for me?
Figure of speech. Don't be paranoid.
You don't think paranoia's appropriate?
I'd save it for after the audit.
Could I get a turkey club on toast?
He was never really around much anyway,
but after that, he really disappeared.
Vanished.
He loved us, of course, me and my sisters,
but the real, unbreakable connection was between the two of them.
I envied them.
To have that kind of love... I dunno.
Maybe it's not possible in this day and age.
Well, I heard that you were living with somebody in Arizona.
I was. Jodelle, architect. We sort of split up six months ago.
Sort of?
I moved out but we still slept together.
- Oh, sex with your ex. It's tricky. - Yeah, tricky, but intense.
Addictive.
So, where are you at now?
I dunno. I haven't talked to her since I got to Baltimore.
You haven't?
Don't know what to say.
No one's home. Let's come back later.
If she lives alone, no one's ever gonna be home.
We have a warrant. We could kick the door down.
But on the other hand, why use force when guile will do?
Ha!
You tell people not to use their birthday for a PIN
or to hide the house key in obvious places, but do they listen?
Excuse me. Can I help you?
We're investigating the death of Mary Coleman. Who are you?
I'm her daughter, Carrie.
Oh, well, we'd just like to take a little look around.
- Don't let me stop you. - Thank you.
I just came by to get some things for the funeral, clothes for her.
How grotesque is that?
She was going on vacation next week.
- Vegas. - Yeah, she loved to gamble.
It was her passion, her pastime and one true love.
- Slots? - Slots, horses, blackjack, poker.
- You name it. - She any good?
She put herself through college playing Five Card Stud.
Yeah, Mama was the card sharp.
Mm-hm. Liked the ponies, too.
Pimlico, every chance she got.
She wasn't quite as good with ponies as she was with poker.
Do you know what happened?
Not yet. You?
No, I wish I did.
Some terrible accident. What else could it have been?
Who's Roger? I got post-it slips with Roger's number on it.
"Roger called." Phone numbers, faxes, pager numbers.
- What, is Roger her shrink? - Roger was Mama's bookie.
Was there any bad blood between her and your uncle?
No. No, she was very close to both of them.
Uncle Alvin bought this house so she'd be nearby.
He bought the house for her?
She couldn't afford this neighbourhood.
Why, what did she do for a living?
I told you. She was a gambler.
She was good, but not this good.
Hm. Laptop with your latte?
The days of the pool hall bookie are gone.
- Modern odds-makers gotta be online. - You must be Michael.
- You must be Roger. This is Laura. - Please, sit.
- Mary Coleman was your customer? - Client.
- She liked ponies. - Ponies, football.
- How much did she owe you? - Close to 100 grand, all told.
- That's a lot of money. - Yes and no.
No, if she pays it back in a timely fashion. Yes, if she don't.
- She'd fallen behind? - Further and further.
Far enough behind for somebody to want to make an example of her?
What do you mean, whack her?
Break her legs? What good would that do?
- Serve as a deterrent to others. - Please.
Others' misfortunes don't deter anyone.
Why was she so in the red?
Just a streak of bad luck. You know, she'd had 'em before.
This time she wasn't coming up with the gelt to pay her obligations.
Where did she get the money to cover her losses?
- Her brother-in-law. - Alvin Taylor?
Makes sense. Well-to-do doctor.
Although rumour has it the doctor isn't doing so well.
You placed casino bets for her?
Then you used her social security number as a pass key.
- What do you need? - Credit check.
- So much for the right to privacy. - You believe in the Easter Bunny, too?
Mary Coleman was maxed out on her cards.
- Cash advances. - Covering her markers.
- Not with me. - Mary used other bookies?
She was very promiscuous.
Defaulted on a $50,000 bank loan against the equity of her house.
Taylor buys her a house, she hocks it to pay off her habit.
Can't have made him happy.
No, especially since he co-signed the loan.
What are you doing?
I'm seeing if I can eat anything
that's not gonna give me kidney failure from high sodium intake.
- You're into health, aren't you? - Yeah, I was.
Just went off the wagon.
I had a nice time talking to you last night.
Oh, me, too.
So, er, Rene?
So, er, Tim?
Oh, forget it.
What?
Well, you know...
You know, it wouldn't really... Forget it. I don't know. I don't know.
- You know, if... - Want to go out sometime?
Er, yeah, yeah.
Sure. But I thought you were gay.
You thought that I was gay?
That's what I heard?
That is just... You know what?
Actually, it's unbelievable.
I mean, you have sex with a guy a couple of times and...
- You're not gay? - I like women.
You like men, too?
Men? Um...
You know, men, that's... Yeah, I like men.
Well, how would you describe yourself sexually?
Um...
Interested in the beauty and wonder of the universe.
Um...
Open to all the various complexities and possibilities
of existence.
Bi-curious.
- I can relate to that. - You can?
Mm-hm.
I've gone out with bi guys.
You have, really?
I'm kind of bi-curious myself. Most women are.
Mm, yeah.
Yeah.
- Ballard, Michael G, what's up? - Just the man we're looking for.
- Tell us about Alvin Taylor. - Read the papers.
Well, we want some inside dope, stuff that might not be public knowledge.
Max Silva, Baltimore Boxing Club.
Grizzled guru of the sweet science. Lucky for you, me and Max go way back.
Hm.
Taylor? Best cut man in the business. You know that, Paul.
Alvin could close a cut and keep it closed. This was in his prime.
Dr Taylor's past his prime?
Aren't we all? Maybe not you, sweetheart.
But the rest of us, especially this one.
Put on some pounds. You a cruiserweight now?
Get outta here, cruiserweight.
Give me some gloves. You got anybody worth sparring with.
Luis, get this guy some gloves and take him to the woodshed, will you?
- Cocky little SOB. - You are not serious?
Oh, yes, I am.
I might suck at hoops, but in here watch my footwork.
I'll knock this pachuco on his culo.
I hope you break your nose.
Taylor wasn't working so much?
Big purses pretty much dried up for him a few years ago.
Word was he lost his touch.
Taylor make a lot of money working the fights?
Cab fare. He made his bread and butter peddling steroids to fighters.
I found out, tossed his butt in the street. Barred him from the gym.
- Come on, show me what you got! - Watch this.
Attaboy, Luis! Show that flat-footed, lard-assed, Eye-tie police how it's done!
I wish someone would look at me that way.
Huh? Oh, come on!
That expression on your face is illegal in some states.
Good, Luis! Take him down!
I think Paul could use some of Dr Taylor's cut magic.
That's nothing. That's just a scratch. Come on, Falsone! Punch him! Jab him!
Yeah. Yeah, do that! Do that!
Oh, my God!
This is one of the darkest circles of Dante's Inferno.
- Just relax. - Look at you. You relax.
- You'll have a cerebral incident. - I'm not nervous.
What do you bet this guy is a flaming pipsqueak,
5'2, 30 lbs overweight,
bad hair, plugs, dandruff, end-stage halitosis?
I wouldn't underestimate him, John.
Mr Munch, won't you come in.
What's happening with the Taylor-Coleman case?
I'm checking phone records, Stivers is checking arms dealers.
Ballard is tracing the Glock.
I didn't ask for a blow-by-blow account of your time.
You may do that at the Bureau but you don't have to cover your ass with me.
Have you found anything?
Lieu, it's my case. Why don't I fill you in?
Call from Taylor to Coleman 15 minutes before the incident.
Who called, the husband or the wife?
Neither of them mentioned speaking to her.
Then you haven't found anything yet.
All right, now fill me in.
Mary Coleman's Glock is hot.
It was stolen in a home burglary last year.
- Then sold again on the street. - Exactly.
- Fingerprints? - Lab's still working on 'em.
Find out who the dealer was who sold the Glock and keep me in the loop.
Don't make me have to look for you to get an update.
- Is he always this harassing? - Pretty much.
Hey, I just heard from a guy I know.
He has information to sell about someone looking to buy a handgun.
- We'll go talk to him. - He's got something on the side.
- You gotta look the other way. - His sideline's a federal offence?
Could be. He brokers the occasional handgun.
- I'm not interested in middlemen. - OK.
- Let's boogie. - Yeah.
- Hey-hey, Sugar Ray. - Hey.
- Good look for you. - You should see the other guy.
I did, not a mark on him.
What are you talking about? You seen me dump that chump on his boutta.
Rave on there, champ.
I gave that palooka a halo of tweety birds.
He's still hearing bells and whistles.
- I think he likes you. - Oh, I don't even register on his radar.
- Ha! - Ha, ha! Do you think?
- Hey, we're friends of Terri Stivers. - She said you had something for us?
You got something for me?
About a month ago, a lady came in here looking for a piece.
Said it was for protection.
So, I tell her where she can find something to suit her needs.
- Yeah, that's her. - Where did you send her?
Lemonhead Boggs. Services the neighbourhood.
Man, no supermarket, no bank, but hey, you can always buy a gun.
Where can we find this Lemonhead?
Round the corner, Armando's Nouvelle Coiffures.
Anybody here seen Lemonhead? I loved saying that.
You don't get street names at the Bureau?
Nothing like Lemonhead. Let me say it again.
Lemonhead!
What?
Know her?
Funny. Her picture's been all over the news.
Don't care for the news. It's too depressing.
She bought a gun from you about a month and a half ago.
9mm Glock.
Don't know where you get your information from
cos I don't sell guns.
We're working a murder, not looking to hurt you.
Look, I'm getting my dome done here.
Now, do you mind?
I got another idea.
♪ The look of love is in your eyes
♪ A look your heart can't disguise
♪ The look of love
♪ Is saying so much more
♪ Than words could ever say
♪ And what my heart has heard
♪ Well, it takes my breath away
♪ I can hardly wait to hold you, feel my arms around you
♪ How long I have waited... ♪
So, Mary Coleman, who hates guns by all accounts,
takes target practice three days before shooting Alvin.
Why would she want to kill him?
Homicide, family, almost always one of two things: Money or love.
- Oh, money I understand. - Well, you wouldn't kill for love?
Would you?
Oh, you're scaring me now.
♪ I love you so ♪
We have evidence that Mary Coleman bought a gun
and was learning how to use it.
I can't think of any reason why she would do that
or why she would want to harm me.
Your sister-in-law racked up some big gambling debts.
I'm not gonna discuss Mary's private life with you.
Did you cover her losses over the years?
That's family business not yours.
- Do you have life insurance? - Of course.
Is your wife the beneficiary, not your sister-in-law?
What are you getting at? Some sort of motive?
- Is it a sizable policy? - My finances are not your concern.
- We can subpoena your records. - What about that loan?
What loan?
- The one you co-signed. - I didn't co-sign any loan.
- Against the house you bought her? - No, absolutely not.
- Detectives. - Dr Taylor.
Honey, do you know anything about some equity loan
Mary took out against her house?
No, first I've heard of it.
How you feeling? Ready to go home?
Champing at the bit, baby.
You threw your back out meditating?
Er, you know, you sit zazen for hour and a half straight in the Zendo,
and, you know, I tried to leap up too quickly off my zafu cushion,
and zing went the strings on my sciatica, OK?
So how's it going with Sheppard?
It's a total meltdown. She handed me my lunch.
Oh, you asked her out?
On the basketball court. Cleaned my clock.
So that's it? A woman beats you in a game and you lose all interest?
Hell, yes.
After what she did to me, I'd be a little worried that I couldn't...
You know, dunk it, jam it,
take it to the hole when the game was on the line.
I am so glad I'm not a man.
I'm glad you're not a man, too.
I'd miss those unique insights into the female psyche.
- Crude. - Who, Falsone?
No. Taylor's signature on this life insurance loan application.
Obviously forged. Ballistics?
Bullet in Taylor's hip matches the Glock and Taylor's.38 shot Coleman.
She fired, he fired. I hate these kind of cases.
Taylor has a sizable policy. Beneficiary is his wife.
And then his sister-in-law.
Pass Go, collect dough, pay off your bookie.
Hey, Lusko. What you got on the Taylor-Coleman shootings?
We lifted some partials off the 9mm that matched the dead woman.
Trace Analysis called, found powder residue on the right hand.
So, Coleman fired the Glock, no question. Shot Alvin Taylor.
There's another set of prints on the barrel and the grip.
- Whose? - Don't know.
I eliminated Alvin Taylor. No match in the database.
OK, thank you.
Let's take another run at finding the shmoe who sold the hot Glock.
Let's squeeze Lemonhead, refresh his memory.
It's $300. What you got? Let me see what you got.
Come on, man. I ain't got all day.
Oh, no!
My man, Lemonhead!
The good humour man.
- How's business? - What's this? Your rolling stock?
Now, I told you I didn't sell that lady no handgun.
- Not that I sell guns. - Federal Agent.
I can get an ATF posse here in ten minutes.
You know about taking a Federal fall.
Mandatory sentences, no chance of parole, no night light in your cell.
All right, all right. What?
You sell this woman a handgun?
I could tell you yes,
but I'd be lying just to save my ass.
Why did she buy off the corner? Suburban type like her can get one legal.
You sure you never get anybody down here like that?
Yeah, about a month ago I had a lady down here.
I told her she'd get her car jacked.
She said, "Who'd be dumb enough to jack a car with vanity plates?"
I said, "A lot of crack heads can't read."
Hey, oh, vanity plates?
Yeah, some kind of doctor or something.
Yeah, that could be her. Maybe.
- On the bounce, baby. - Yeah, on the bounce.
Suzanne Taylor.
Now, what would a dermatologist be wanting with a handgun?
Well, like you said, it's a tough town.
If we can get fingerprints from Suzanne Taylor,
we think they will match the prints from Coleman's Glock
used to shoot her brother-in-law.
Will this Lemonhead Boggs character testify
that he sold the weapon to Suzanne Taylor?
If we jam him on another charge and then offer him a deal.
He's no choirboy. He's dealing handguns.
If both women handled the weapon that Boggs sold to Suzanne Taylor,
and Boggs testifies, maybe we have a conspiracy.
Mary made the inquiries while Suzanne made the actual purchase.
Suzanne calls Mary, tells her to hide in the garage and ambush Alvin.
15 minutes later, she asks Alvin to get some ice cream.
He hears a dog barking, becomes suspicious, grabs his.38.
Which the wife didn't know he had.
He confronts who he thinks would be an intruder.
Shots are fired, he's wounded, Mary's dead.
I'll get you a court order for Suzanne Taylor's prints as a material witness.
If they match, we'll arrest her, conspiracy to commit murder.
Let's print the bitch.
- Good work. - Thanks.
This ink has got to be terrible for your skin.
Toxic, carcinogenic probably.
It watches off with soap and water.
Whose bright idea was this, I wonder?
You can't question me until the lawyer arrives.
I'll bet Mary thought of it first.
Forge your husband's signature, then kill him for the life insurance.
Yeah, must have been her idea. She needed the money.
Detective, don't try to beguile me. I'm immune to your charms.
See, what I don't understand is how did she get you to go along with it?
Your husband said you had a superb marriage.
I don't understand how she talked you into it.
- He said what? - Weren't those his words?
"Superb".
Alvin.
- How was the audit? - I get to keep my firstborn.
- Ouch. How bad was it? - $1,000 a month for three years.
You'll have to get a second job.
- I have a second job. - A second second job.
Mike, do you know anybody in the IRS?
- IRS? - Hey, don't go there.
I need information on an IRS agent: Address, phone number, marital status.
You want to dig up dirt on an IRS agent?
Isn't there some secret database that you could access?
Are you nuts? You don't mess with the IRS.
You could stand toe-to-toe with these guys.
I could. The question is, why would I?
Leave it alone, Munchkin.
I'm not gonna stalk the guy, Mike. I just need an edge.
- How's your time off? - Spent it packing my things.
Oh, Stuart.
How many years in that crummy little box?
18? 19? A lot of stuff.
I'm so glad to be out of there. Place was like a pressure cooker.
The old-fashioned kind, blows the beans all over the ceiling.
Flora around?
- No, she cleared out, went to the mall. - Shopping therapy.
Yeah, on my card.
Ask you a question? You dating Munch?
- Mm-hm. - Exclusively?
- We're not married. - Neither am I.
Er, almost.
Call me when you're all the way there.
So this is the Waterfront?
Yup, just stay away from any sticky surfaces, you'll be OK.
Billie Lou, have you met Mike Giardello?
- Pleased to meet you. - And you.
Bourbon with a beer back?
Er, no, I wish. I'm still on the clock. How about a ginger ale?
Bitters and soda, please.
So, Stu, Gina Tindeco says to say hello and that you should call her.
Gina, the nurse? I have such a crush on her.
Aren't your sights set on Billie Lou?
- Oh, I do. - Slut.
I'm a born-again romantic. I'm free to flirt, free to fall in love.
Yeah, let me tell you something, Stu.
A middle-aged man hitting on a young woman is not a pretty picture.
Oh, yeah? Cheers.
You guys closed the Coleman case?
Getting there. Wife's prints were on the gun. We have a bail hearing.
Ah, congratulations.
Don't get too cosy. I'll be back tomorrow.
- I'm not poaching your partner. - As long as it's understood.
Hey, guys.
- Hey, Rene. - Stu.
I suppose you have a crush on her, like everybody else?
Sheppard? Uh-uh.
- Please, she's gorgeous. - She's not my type.
She's too skinny, too much hair.
- Let's go to court. - Mm-hm.
Now, you, on the other hand...
Ready for another?
Can I buy you one?
Absolutely.
All right.
Woman tries to kill him and he posts her bond?
Half a million bucks. Put their house up.
I'd want a man to do that for me.
If you tried to kill a man, you'd want him to bail you out?
No, not just any man. My lover, my husband.
- Sorry, I think it's romantic. - I think it's perverse.
- True love, huh? - The happy couple.
Doesn't look too grateful to him.
She's still steamed he bought the gun and ruined her scheme.
We know what her defence is gonna be.
Yeah, put the blame on him, create reasonable doubt.
It's a good strategy.
It might work. Who knows?
You women must believe we're all such saps.
Oh, I guess we are at that.
- It's not your fault. It's the hard-wiring. - Yeah, some consolation.
Call Jodelle, let her know how you feel.
- If I knew, I would. - So what? You talk it through.
You should tell Falsone next time you see him.
I thought men didn't like that.
A beautiful woman tells you she has the hots for you?
- I wouldn't put it that way. - Any less, you won't get his attention.
Well, maybe I will. It's worth a shot.
Sure. What have you got to lose?
My self-respect, my dignity.
What do self-respect and dignity have to do with love?
Right.