Bleak in the boondocks, huh? What are they building?
- Luxury condominiums. - You got your great water view.
Little short on the neighbourhood amenities.
That pungent odour can't be coming from the corpse.
No soft tissue whatsoever.
We'll be lucky if we ID this ivory, let alone catch the killer.
This is a homicide we're working on?
Maybe our John Doe just dropped dead here,
and some Samaritan gave him an impromptu burial.
- The John Doe's a Jane. - How do we know?
By the size of the skeletal remains, and the shape of the pelvic bones.
Was she wearing a name tag saying, "Hi, my name is Sherri?"
No, but she was wearing cheap silver earrings,
and a belt, what were probably jeans,
and the boots aren't in bad shape either.
Expensive designer Texas two-steppers.
Our Jane Doe was styling them. It's a start.
I've been here before.
Punchy DeLeon in the parking lot at Pimlico.
Eugene Elwin bricked up in a wall à la Edgar Allan Poe.
Toinette Perry's daddy buried in his own basement by his darling daughter.
What is it with me and old cases that go up on the Board in blue?
Is God telling me something?
He's telling you you've gotta eat more. You're too skinny.
Maybe he's trying to tell me to listen. The dead are talking back.
Talk to me.
- Can I ask you a personal question? - Shoot.
I was just wondering, what's your mother's maiden name?
That's your idea of personal?
I was just curious cos, I mean, Ballard, that's...
I don't even know what Ballard is.
Well, Ballard is my stepfather's name.
I meant more like ethnically.
Ballard is Swedish.
Oh, yeah? Your mum Swedish, too?
- My mother's name is Hartounian. - Hartounian?
I am Armenian, Assyrian and LBJ.
- Your family's from Texas? - "Little Bit Jewish".
I thought you might be Italian.
Nope. Disappointed?
Of course not, but my mom might be.
- Mama Falsoney? - She'll get over it.
Maybe you wanna have dinner some night at her house.
But I've gotta warn you, Theresa's a terrible cook.
Wow, I thought all Italian mothers were great cooks.
- Well, mine sucks. - You wanted to know my background
to see how I'd score on the Mama Meter.
No, you never talk about your heritage.
Everybody else is always bragging on their roots.
I'm not into that hyphenated stuff.
I understand that, but what about ethnic pride?
I'm not ashamed. I don't like it when people make assumptions.
They hear you have ancestry in the Middle East...
Oh, I got you. Belly dancers, camels, terrorists...
- And don't forget turbans! - You'd look good in a turban.
- Thank you. - Just a turban and high heels.
- Hey, Sheppard. Shiner deluxe. - Wow, that fat lip must smart.
Only when I eat salt.
So, naturally, I'm jonesin' big-time for potato chips, corn nuts.
I could even go for some chitlins.
Chitlins? And people think she's a health-food fiend.
Sheppard, in my office.
Hey, Laura.
You know the regs on fraternisation between members of the same shift.
We're not allowed to talk to each other?
You shouldn't flaunt your affair in front of Gee. That's all I'm saying.
It's not an affair.
- Hey, Terri. - What?
Am I right?
If you keep throwing your relationship in Gee's face,
he'll have to do something about it.
Give me a break. We're not throwing anything in anybody's face, OK?
OK.
- How's your head? - I'm not seeing double.
Nose doesn't bleed when I blow it. I'm good to go.
Maybe you should take some more time off.
Yesterday I cleaned my bathroom five times, Gee.
- You know what I'm saying? - Ride a desk in the squad room.
You told me you wouldn't take me off the street.
- Just temporary. - Gee, I'm...
It's not negotiable.
- You need some time to cool off. - I'm fine.
You got your gun taken away from you, and you were almost killed.
You don't trust me?
The worst thing that can happen
is for you to go out on that street with something to prove.
- I wouldn't do that. - How do you know?
I have to be sure before I put you back on rotation.
What secrets has she been whispering in your ear?
Fractured skull, several blows from a blunt instrument,
which would have caused massive cerebral haemorrhaging, ending in death.
Which particular blunt, bludgeoning object are we looking for?
From the fracture pattern, I'd say something cylindrical.
A pipe, a baseball bat, a tree limb. Any indication where she was killed?
She was bopped on the noggin at the site.
No burlap sacks, no plastic bags, no blankets.
Nothing that would indicate that Miss Doe was transported from elsewhere.
Can you pin the date of death down to a decade? Circa... what?
Well, the deep mahogany colour of the bones
indicates a long-term mineral absorption from the marshy ground.
She's been a-mouldering in her grave anywhere from 6 to 20 years.
Do you call that an educated guess?
That's like reading your daily horoscope. One size fits all.
Why is he so testy?
I can tell you she was a Caucasian. 5'4"to 5'8".
Her belt was still looped, and so from the size of her waist,
I would estimate her weight to be anywhere from 115 to 145lbs.
The epiphyses on her femur are completely sealed,
which makes her a full-grown woman,
between 20 and 30 years old.
She has three healed fractures in her left ulna.
- Is ulna what I think it is? - No.
It's the bone in the forearm.
She probably fell out of an apple tree as a kid.
So her arm was X-rayed?
X- rays would be a good way to identify her,
although DNA would be much better, or dental records.
So we need to find her doctor, her dentist, her mother,
which would be a breeze, if we knew her name.
If we had her name, we wouldn't need no DNA evidence.
You have a keen grasp of our conundrum.
We're going to take some digital photos of her skull,
and send them to the Smithsonian for a facial reconstruction,
giving you an idea of what she looked like.
- You got money for that? - I have a discretionary slush fund.
I would kill for a slush fund.
How do you think I got mine? One more thing.
Note the widening of the preauricular sulcus of the sacroiliac joint.
- I was going to ask you about that. - She's had at least one baby.
Hey.
- Gee's got me in office. - I heard.
He was coming right at me.
What was I supposed to do? Sucker punch?
After he knocks my gun out of my hand, I just...
I just tackled him and held on for dear life.
I thought Meldrick and I were gonna die.
Badass is beating on me like a drum.
His partner snatches up my piece, and fires.
And I'm thinking, "I just got my partner killed."
He's never gonna wanna partner with me again.
Rene, I don't think anybody blames you for pulling your weapon.
I woulda done the same thing.
- That's the problem. - What?
You and me and Ballard, we are smaller and lighter than the men.
- Yeah. - You know the rap on female police?
I know the rap on female police.
We're weaker, so we go to our guns too soon,
because we can't out-muscle the hump.
And now I'm the poster girl for all the department Neanderthals.
They're fancy, fake ladies' cowboy boots. Calamity Janes.
Hand-stitched, handcrafted, frog-skin uppers.
- Frog skin? - Norman Footwear, based in Delaware.
Are they still in business?
Moved to Mexico after NAFTA. This is their '85 model.
They discontinued the line after that.
- She had to buy these kicks in '85? - Early '86 at the latest.
- Thanks. - Sure. You're welcome.
At last, the parameter.
At least we know she wasn't killed before '85.
We have a starting point. We can take her to Missing Persons.
- Higby, we don't have a name yet. - Well, when did she disappear?
Between '85 and '93.
You could go through all the card files.
Card files? Are you kidding?
We didn't computerise till '94.
We're not looking for the card catalogue. Just the open cases.
You want to know who's been missing since '96, I can print you out a list,
but '85, you're gonna have to compile it yourself.
Anybody's who's been dropped out of sight for that long is not our concern.
Their either out enjoying their new non-extraditable lives,
or they're rotting away somewhere, just waiting
for a couple of big-time Homicide detectives like you to discover 'em.
Trace Analysis. We'll get back to you.
If you wanna pull those case cards, feel free.
You get me transferred back to Homicide?
Yeah, right. Sure.
Kiss my white ass!
The remnant of Jane Doe's genes had a swatch of red pigment.
The pigment contained a chemical identifier
called methylaminoanthraquinone.
Damn! That's worth a couple of hundred points in Scrabble.
MAAQ for short.
Thank God. What good does that do us?
A lot, I would think.
MAAQ is a specific synthetic used in dye packs.
The ones the banks hide with their money.
So our gal brushed up against some stolen dough.
- So she either knew a bank robber. - Or was one.
Exactly.
How many female bank robbers were in Baltimore back in the day?
Not many.
So, Munchkin, it looks like we've got ourselves a bandit queen.
Black as night, hard as hell, sweet as sin.
It's the only way to drink Java, am I right?
I wouldn't know. I drink espresso.
In Italy you can't find a cup of Americano.
They drink espresso all day long. Cappuccino in the evening for dessert.
In Italy they know how to live.
In America, we just know how to work, which is why I'm tanking up here.
Momento.
Late night?
Yeah.
Còmo se dice?
Falsone, it's come to my attention...
About me and Ballard.
Thank you for not making me have to spell it out. Grazie.
One thing led to another.
- Hey, these things happen. - Exactly.
Which is why we have rules and regulations to deal with them.
- Is it serious? - It's too soon to tell.
If it's serious, one of you has got to transfer to another shift.
If it's not serious, knock it off now.
Capisce? It's your choice.
You'll talk it over with Ballard, and you'll let me know, all right?
Trace Analysis found bank pack dye on a jean shred.
At the very least, she was consorting with stolen money.
Having MAAQ on your clothes is circumstantial, not definitive.
We're trying to ID our Jane Doe, not indict her for bank robbery.
Her statute of limitations ran out around the same time as her bone marrow.
Maybe she was part of a gang.
They started scooping out the teller's drawers.
She throws a dye pack in her swag bag by mistake.
An associate whacks her for being a bright red piece of walking evidence.
- You're getting ahead of yourselves. - That's what we do best.
This case could use a little creative speculation.
Well, you should speculate on this.
From the FBI Field Office.
A list of bank robberies in the Baltimore area between '85 and '93.
I count six women's names on this list.
Uh-huh. Three of them are white.
Georgia Lomax, Joanne McKey, Carrie-Mae Reeves.
- And B of I shots? - In the file.
And surveillance cameras?
Any chance our heinous heists were captured on video tape?
Good luck tracking it down.
Lomax and McKey were caught and convicted.
- Reeves? - Never apprehended.
- Not in the Greater Baltimore area. - Maybe she took her act on the road.
I could contact NCIC, and see if they can track her.
Thanks, Mike.
Got a body in Druid Hill Park. You want it?
Great. A dump job.
It beats paper-shuffling. I'm on my way.
- Where's Stivers? - She's tied up in court for the day.
Need help?
- Aren't you in office? - Yeah, and I'm going stir-crazy.
Squad room Ebola.
Thanks, Sheppard, but I can handle it.
You don't want to partner with me?
I don't want to piss the Lieutenant off any more than I already have.
If I weren't sentenced to a desk?
Then I'd partner with you anytime. Just not today.
- I'm excited. I've a concert coming up. - Wow!
"Whooping Crane Blues. Suite for stand-up bass."
- An underappreciated instrument. - My first composition in several years.
- Atonal minimalism, right? - You remembered.
- Listen, I know it's short notice... - 10:00am tomorrow morning?
It's the only time I could get. It's a strip joint.
- I'll be there. - Stuart, that would be fantastic!
- Miss... - Excuse me.
She's taken.
What? You don't think I can give Munch a run for his money?
Stu, it's not a foot race. Billie Lou's in love with Munch.
I refuse to believe that.
Hey! Grab a seat. Join us.
I'm on my way to Druid Hill. Found a body in a park.
- Hey, Gharty, can we have a minute? - Oh, yeah. Sure.
Hey, Billie Lou...
- What's up? - Gee busted us.
He said we either have to knock it off,
or one of us has to transfer to another shift immediately.
But I don't wanna transfer.
Well, neither do I. Then I'd never see you.
Yeah, there's that, but also I like this shift.
I like partnering with Stu.
Well, I'm comfortable working with Stivers.
Do we have to decide this right now?
Of course not.
Listen, I'll catch up with you later.
You all right?
All right.
Meldrick, any luck?
Yeah, Joanna McKey's doing 15 to 20 at the women's facility up at Jessup
for a mini-mall robbery in '93.
Georgia Lomax is on parole living in South Baltimore with her sister.
- She slammed the door in your face. - Uh-huh.
- Commissioner Lanham. - Hey, you guys.
Hey, Commissioner, I understand you're finally calling it quits.
After 29 years in a police department, don't you think it's time I get parole?
- You're not a threat to public safety. - That's not what my wife says.
Good luck, sir.
So I guess that leaves Carrie-Mae Reeves.
Her last suspected bank job was the Pimlico Savings and Loan.
September 1987. $240,000 never recovered.
Did she pull that job alone?
We think she was part of a crew of four wanted for a series of bank robberies
from DC to Philly back in the mid-'80s.
Her cohorts were a trio of jamokes
named Bobby Groves, Raphael Sykes and Angelo Mancini.
According to her humble rap sheet, she was more than a bank robber.
Prostitution, drug possession, assault.
You come up with anything from NCIC?
After Pimlico, she drops off the radar.
I hassled Higby to go through the cards,
working his way backwards, starting with '85.
When she bought her boots.
Mm-hm. And guess what.
Carrie-Mae's mother reported her missing in '78 when she was sweet 16.
- That file's still open? - Carrie-Mae's never been found.
- Not unless you just dug her up. - Her mother still lives in Baltimore.
You think Mama would be willing to part with a little blood
for a possible DNA match-up to the aforementioned remains?
If we ask nice.
I don't know. I really don't.
It might be Carrie-Mae at 25, if she had a really hard life,
which she probably has.
- How old is she in this photograph? - 14.
Same person?
Beats me. I can't tell.
Is she dead? Carrie-Mae?
We found some remains of a woman who died some time ago,
but we haven't identified them.
Did your daughter injure herself as a child? Break any bones?
She fell of a swing set when she was eight.
Broke her arm in three places.
The body you found, the remains... Had she ever broken her arm?
Could you tell?
We need to do a DNA test to determine if the person we found is your daughter.
- Would you give us a blood sample? - Course I can.
You know something?
I've been dreading this conversation for 20 years.
I can't blame her. I was the same way.
Wild and hot and crazy-stupid.
The final time she ran away, she was 16.
I filed a missing persons report. Nothing.
Two years later, the doorbell rang. There she was.
New baby on her arm.
Hadn't heard a word from her in all that time.
"I'm going to the mall," she says.
I said, "Don't you leave me with this baby girl."
She said, "Don't worry. I won't."
That's just what she did. That's the last time I laid eyes on her.
You never told the police she came back. Her original file is still open.
She was only found for 24 hours. Then she went missing again.
What about your granddaughter? She ever hear from her mother?
As far as I know, no, but you'd have to ask her.
Tina's a student. Lives in Bolton Hill.
- You know who Tina's father is? - No idea.
And if Carrie-Mae knew, she wouldn't tell him.
You recognise any of these three men?
You think one of 'em's Tina's dad?
They might have been friends or associates,
some of whom who might help us find your daughter.
Maybe him. There was one fella. Came round the house looking for Carrie-Mae.
- When was this? - Late '80s maybe.
'87, '88. I'm not sure.
I kept telling him I didn't know where she was,
but he didn't believe me.
- Did he say what he was looking for? - Not that I recall.
He was all wrought-up. In a real hurry to find her.
- How soon you get the test back? - Preliminary results tomorrow.
The more sophisticated results will take a few weeks at least.
Well, I've waited this long for the bad news.
I guess I can wait a few more weeks.
Thank you.
Almost a good lead, huh, her identifying Bobby Groves?
Yeah. Too bad he died in prison.
I sneaked out of the house to meet her. I had to promise not to tell Grandma.
One day she stopped calling. That was that. No more Mama.
- When was that? - I must have been seven or eight.
- You know what year? - 1987, maybe. Something like that.
I thought she'd show up again, you know.
For years, whenever the phone rang...
So you think you've found her?
We're trying to identify the remains of someone we think might be your mother.
I see.
After your mom's disappearance, did you ever hear from her again?
No. I knew she was gone. She was never coming back.
- If it is her, will you let me know? - Sure.
Do you have any idea of what or how it happened?
We're still working on all of that.
I'd really appreciate anything you can tell me about her.
It's a big mystery in the middle of my life. I hate it.
Some days it just wants to swallow me up.
Hey.
So Druid Hill?
It's a drug killing. Dealer named Freddy Fletcher.
Shot him somewhere else. Dumped the body there.
Suspects?
Just Freddy's extended family. Got 'em downstairs stewing in their own juices.
Mm-hm.
We have to stop seeing each other.
Yeah.
- I really don't want to. - And neither do I.
What other choice do we have?
- It's better this way, probably. - Yeah, before things get messy and...
I've gotta get downstairs and work some detective magic on Freddy's folks.
OK. I'll see you later.
Assuming the bones in the morgue are the remains of Carrie-Mae Reeves,
two of her three colleagues from the Pimlico Savings and Loan are alive.
That would be Raphael Sykes and Angelo Mancini.
Sykes is serving consecutive life sentences
down at Williamsburg at the federal penitentiary.
He's not going anywhere. What about Mancini?
He's on parole right here in good old B-more.
Contact his parole officer.
Find out where he's working, or roust him at home.
Rattle his brain.
- Our plan exactly, Gee. - Then what are you waiting for?
- Angelo Mancini? - I didn't do it.
Yeah, you did. How the hell did you make us, huh?
You've got "cops" stamped all over you like bar code.
Bar code! See, that's funny!
I can always tell an ex-con by that yardbird body language,
but let's talk for a minute about the Pimlico Savings and Loan caper.
Remember that one, Angelo?
First, give me a half a dozen with Tabasco and horseradish.
- Make it an even baker's dozen. - Pimlico S and L.
I don't know anything about it.
- September 25th, 1987. - I was out of the country in '87.
Now I think about it, that Pimlico... That case is still on the books.
Is that what all this is about? Closing old cases?
I wasn't involved. Go blame somebody else.
You know, they say a career criminal, such as Angelo here,
commits 200 crimes for every time they get caught.
So if we were to reopen the Pimlico S and L...
I wouldn't lose any sleep whether Angelo committed that robbery or not.
Since he did so many without getting caught.
Look, man, I don't need this, all right?
I served my time. I'm not in the bank-robbing business no more.
- I shuck oysters. - You know what would be fun?
We could add a felony murder to this one.
Nobody got killed on the Pimlico S and L job.
Nobody was killed during the job.
They were murdered after the job. You know, thieves fall out.
- You were there. - I was not there.
I don't know anything about any murder.
Carrie-Mae Reeves. We found her body.
Oh, man.
Carrie-Mae...
Carrie-Mae, she was a crazy carnival ride.
Thrill a minute. Chills and spills, man.
- Were you bumping her or what? - We were lovers.
I mean, you know, she was my girlfriend.
Was your lover involved in the Pimlico job?
Yeah. But I wasn't. You understand. For the record.
Obligatory disclaimer duly noted once again.
I heard that Carrie-Mae and Bobby Groves and Raphael Sykes
pulled the Pimlico heist.
Bobby came by the house around the time of the robbery.
Yeah. See, that's the other thing I heard.
Carrie-Mae was the bag man.
After the robbery, she was supposed to hook up
with Groves and Sykes to split the take.
She didn't show. Word was she took off with the loot.
Word was, huh? So Groves and Sykes were ticked off?
At 240 grand. That's big money back then.
You know a lot for a guy who wasn't there.
Well, I was a professional in those days. I was in the loop.
The loop!
I heard things, OK? I've gotta go back to work.
You guys tell my PO I cooperated?
Listen, you jive-ass oyster shucker, there was four people in that robbery.
Four goons in ski masks captured forever on video tape.
- Any idea who the fourth moke was? - No idea. None.
Well, how about it? You gonna do me right by my PO?
Lieutenant...
- Come to a decision? - Yeah. We're gonna stay on this shift.
- Ballard, you concur? - All the way, Lieutenant.
All right. No second chances.
No further warnings.
Break this rule, and you're gone.
- Mm-hm. We understand that. - Do I have your word?
- Yes, sir. - Absolutely.
All right. We'll say no more about it. This subject is closed.
Well?
Well, we like Sykes and Mancini for this one, Gee.
We figured him and Bobby Groves whacked Carrie-Mae
when she ran off with the loot.
Well, I'm always willing to revisit an old case,
if the skeletal remains are actually Carrie-Mae Reeves.
We expect the preliminary DNA results back tomorrow.
Mancini's the only one who's got anything to loose.
Assume he's lying his ass off to save it.
Sykes, on the other hand, is serving consecutive life sentences.
What's one more tacked on the end?
He may be predisposed to tell the truth,
in exchange for some small concession from the prison authorities.
Drive down to Virginia, and talk to Sykes.
I'll make the arrangements.
Take Mike. Williamsburg correction is federal. Mike's jurisdiction.
- What are you doing this evening? - Dinner at Tio Pepe's.
You can have shrimpers and rice anytime.
- Come and take a ride with us. - Where?
- Williamsburg, Virginia. - Penitentiary.
Come on! It's four hours away!
We can go now, stay overnight,
and interview our criminal first thing in the morning.
- Back for your afternoon nap. - Do we have time to pack?
You got your toothbrush in your desk drawer?
- Yeah. - Then you're packed. Come on.
Penitentiary. Penitentiary sounds Catholic.
Yeah, probably is. Some invention of the Inquisition.
You think anyone's truly penitent to be behind these walls?
I think there's plenty who's plenty sorry they got caught.
I'm no Jesuit, but is that penitence? I mean, strictly speaking?
No. It's not even called a penitentiary any more.
Now it's a correctional facility.
No more penitence.
- Just wrong guys. - Who need lots of correction.
Angelo Mancini, Bobby Groves and Carrie-Mae Reeves.
The old gang. What about 'em?
You held up the Pimlico Savings and Loans, September 25th, 1987.
FBI, right?
And you guys are like local Baltimore robbery bulls. Correct?
Looking to clear up some cold cases, pad your stats.
Happy to oblige.
So did you talk to the warden?
I sign off on this interview.
You get a cushy job in a commissary.
What do you want to know about Pimlico S and L?
No longer in business, I believe.
Not because of us.
Some crooked banker looted it a lot worse than we did.
Made our haul look like small potatoes!
So you and your associates did in fact rob the Pimlico Savings and Loan?
We did. Congratulations. You cracked the case. Are we done?
- Let's talk about the money. - One of your larger heists.
$240,000.
Carrie-Mae Reeves ripped us off. Stupid bitch.
- So she got away, huh? - Not hardly.
Bobby Groves tracked her down,
and killed her like the pathetic poodle she was.
How did he find her?
Wasn't hard. He just followed Carrie's kid.
She was living with her grandmother. Used to sneak out and meet Carrie.
Shadowed the kid until Carrie showed up a couple of days
after we took down the bank.
- How did he do her? - Hit her over the head with a pipe.
You were there? You witnessed this righteous act of retribution?
- He told me and I believed him. - Did he get the money back?
Nah. She stashed it somewhere. Never found it.
Hmm.
So Bobby Groves killed Carrie-Mae all by himself, huh?
- Killed her dead. Bonk! - Bonk.
Well, how convenient is that?
Bobby Groves ain't around to corroborate your story.
What difference does it make to me?
You can't give me the death penalty retroactively.
If I'd done her, I'd tell you.
The truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Why would I lie?
Cos you're a sociopathic piece of scum. Lying is like breathing to you.
Think what you like. I didn't kill her.
Bobby Groves did, and she deserved it.
Why are you wasting your time
on some junkie-whore-bank-robber like Carrie-Mae Reeves, anyway?
Sykes confessed to the Pimlico Savings and Loan job.
He says that Bobby Groves, Mancini and Carrie-Mae Reeves were involved.
He also swears that Bobby Groves killed Carrie-Mae on his own after the robbery.
He says him and Mancini
had no idea beforehand that Bobby was gonna whack her.
- Is he telling the truth? - We still like all three.
Arrest Mancini for the bank job. Bring him in and sweat him.
Maybe then he'll change his story.
- Hey. - Hey!
- Sign off on this? - Yeah. Sure thing.
- I missed you last night. - Oh, me too.
- I couldn't sleep. - Me neither.
I tossed and I turned.
- You too? - Yeah.
Falsone.
- Thanks. - Yeah.
I'll turn this in tomorrow. See you later.
Where are you going?
Frankie Fletcher's arraignment. You wanna come?
No, thank you.
So Frankie killed his own brother?
Freddy ripped him off, and as Frankie said,
"Family is family, but bidness is bidness."
- Just got a call. Want to take it? - Absolutely.
Belair-Edison. Domestic dust-up.
Woman hit her husband with a cast-iron frying pan.
- Uniform thinks he's dead. - He thinks?
If we go all the way out there, he better be.
- Are you OK? - Sure.
Always been my dream to be a secretary with a gun.
Hey, Angelo, you want a lawyer?
Public Defenders' Office is back from lunch.
- I don't need a lawyer. - Suit yourself.
I didn't have anything to do with the Pimlico S and L.
Sykes said you did.
He put you right up in there. You and Carrie-Mae and Bobby Groves.
- I wasn't there. - I tell you what else...
He said that you killed Carrie-Mae Reeves.
- What? - You heard the man!
He said that you beat her upside the head with a piece of pipe.
- Bonk! - Oh, man!
I don't know why he would say that.
- Why would he lie? - Bobby did it!
Bobby killed Carrie-Mae. Sykes knows that.
Why would he say I did? That makes no damn sense!
Didn't you neglect to tell us that?
- I guess I did. - So why?
Bobby Groves is gone. Why not put it on his dead ass?
I don't know. I guess I should have.
I figured with both of 'em dead, why bring all that up?
I mean, what's the point?
How could he mention it? Since we'd have to ask him how he knew.
- Bobby told me. - You weren't there?
No. Sykes didn't tell you that Bobby did it. Are you sure?
He put it all on you, pal.
And why would he do that?
Damn if I know.
Y'all two have an arrangement, maybe?
- Arrangement? - Yeah. You and Sykes?
You get together after Bobby died,
and put the murder on him, if this subject ever come up.
- Which it did, yes. - No.
- No?
No, we didn't. Nothing like that.
We asked Sykes about the Pimlico job. He reneges on his side of the deal.
Instead of blaming poor dead Bobby Groves, like he's supposed to,
he blames you.
He describes the murder to us in great detail.
How you hefted the pipe, how you brought it down over on her head.
The sound of the bones breaking, the skull splintering.
How she screamed and screamed.
Screamed.
She didn't scream.
No?
No. She just went down.
You were there?
Sykes... Sykes hit her.
Sykes held the pipe.
What did you do?
Did you hold her down while Sykes hit her?
No.
Bobby held her.
I didn't do anything. I just...
I just watched.
You were there?
- Yeah. - You just watched?
Yeah.
- He wasn't supposed to kill her. - No.
I mean, we wanted her to tell us where the rest of the money was.
But Sykes... He just flipped out. The crazy bastard.
He didn't even care about the money. He just wanted to kill her.
Oh, that job!
Nothing went right on that damn job!
I thought I was in the clear.
With a steady gig, you know? Straight-up civilian girlfriend.
I was doing good, you know.
I really was.
Are you gonna take this one?
Mancini says it was Sykes. Sykes says it was Groves.
We'll charge Sykes and Mancini both.
I don't care which one of these geniuses bashed Carrie-Mae's brains in.
- Which one will the jury believe? - I'll get them to plead out.
Mancini will go back to prison.
- What about Sykes? - Tack on another 30 years.
Life plus life plus life plus 30. What good is that?
I can have Sykes transferred to ADX Florence in Colorado.
Maximum administrative security.
Toughest prison in the country.
He loses all his privileges,
and spends the rest of his life in a very small cell.
Justice in null set.
♪ Let's take a ride
♪ To far-out places
♪ We'll get inside of the world that only you inspire... ♪
Come on!
This is great, isn't it?
Yeah. Now that it's a secret, it's fantastic.
The irony of ironies is that Carrie-Mae Reeves is a crack whore.
And Angelo Mancini had turned his life around.
So when weighing the relative value of their lives...
Munch, Munch, I am not in the mood.
It's the ME's office.
The DNA test's conclusive. It's Carrie-Mae Reeves' skeleton.
Hey, congratulations, Munchkin! That name goes up on the Board in blue.
You wanna go up?
Do we want to tell Tina her mother's a bank robber and a prostitute,
and her sleazebag friends bashed her head in after she ripped them off?
We can sugar-coat it a little better than that.
Let me handle this. I'm more diplomatic.
Better still, we'll call Mrs Reeves tomorrow,
and let her break the news to her granddaughter.
You thinking what I'm thinking?
- A nice place for a orphan art student. - Real nice.
I guess we know what Carrie-Mae did with the cash, huh?
Yeah. Must have set up some kind of trust fund.
We could put Danvers on the scent, and see if he ferrets out a paper trail.
The last I heard Pimlico S and L went out of business.
Swallowed up by the big saving and loan pig-out of the mid-'80s,
for which Ronald Reagan was never properly admonished.
Leave old Ronnie out of this. The man's got Alzheimer's.
It gives him a free pass from judgment of history?
No, it gives me a free pass to have an evening
without your presidential politics and conspiracy theories.
Ah, finally. The stuff from the Smithsonian.
Facial reconstruction.
Better crime-fighting through technology.
So what do you think? Does that look like Carrie-Mae Reeves?
After a bad night at the Roxy.
It's a good likeness. It could be her sister.
Or her cousin.
It could be the next-door neighbour. It could be anybody.
Squint your eyes, it looks like Madeleine Albright.
Hey, partner.
Hey.
What's this?
Souvenir.
- What's the occasion? - Welcome back.
Night.