- Yo, the shit is late. - They still vialing up.
Usually come street-ready, but this time they gotta vial.
- Y'all got any testers, man? - Later.
Later.
- Got any testers? - It ain't even nine, and you fiending on it.
Get the fuck out of here, man. Damn.
- Why you act like that? - What, for these junkie motherfuckers?
So you just gonna take his money and treat him like a dog?
- How am I supposed to treat him? - You ain't gotta punk him like that.
He punked hisself. He's a goddamn drug addict.
- And you a goddamn drug dealer. - So?
- So what? The customer's always right? - We're in the projects.
The customer be fucked up. You can't give these niggers shit, man.
Why not? Why can't you?
Everything else in the world get sold without people taking advantage.
Scamming, lying, doing each other dirty.
- Why has it got to be that way with this? - 'Cause they dope fiends.
Yeah, but the game ain't gotta be played like that.
This shit can get done without people beating on each other,
killing each other, doing each other like dogs.
Without all that, you ain't got Five-0 here on our backs every five minutes,
- throwing us around and shit. - Shit, man.
You think Five-0 would care about niggers getting high? In the projects?
Man, Five-0 be down here about the bodies.
That's what they be down here about.
- Squires, young squires. - What you want, nigger?
Got a little bag of styles for you.
Check it out.
Only $5. Make you a gallant motherfucker, right there, boy.
Him, we know.
If you walk through the garden
You better watch your back
Well I beg your pardon
Walk the straight and narrow track
If you walk with Jesus
He'll save your soul
You gotta keep the devil
Down in the hole
All the angels sing
About Jesus' mighty sword
And they shield you with their wings
Keep you close to the Lord
Don't pay heed to temptation
For his hands are so cold
You gotta keep the devil
Way down in the hole
What are we facing from the riot?
Three witnesses' statements, all saying the officer's assault
on the youth was unprovoked.
Commissioner, people's idea of police brutality is whenever we win a fight.
- What does the state's attorney say? - He says it goes to a grand jury.
That's him doing Pontius Pilate. They don't indict, he looks clean for passing the buck.
- And if they do indict? - They won't.
Criminal histories on our three witnesses, one longer than the next.
Drugs, weapons, assault, more drugs.
- Shitbirds throwing dirt at good police. - Just the same, Lieutenant,
I want you to rethink whatever tactic led you to send three plainclothes officers
to do field interviews at the high-rises at two in the morning.
- Yes, sir. - I take it your people have union counsel?
Yes, sir.
Sir, l would request that pending the grand jury review,
Officer Pryzbylewski be placed on administrative leave.
We shouldn't have him on the street until the grand jury signs off.
That's putting our tail between our legs.
Our official stance has to be he did nothing wrong out there.
- A 14-year-old is half-blind. - And two of ours were injured as well.
Goddamn right. They were fucking shooting at us out there.
Bobby, what do you think?
Keep him off the streets until it clears the courthouse.
OK, then, we wait on the grand jury.
Lieutenant. A moment, please.
What happened out there?
Did you know they were in the high-rises without backup?
If I tell you yes, I screwed up.
If I tell you no, I'm putting my men in the jackpot.
Do you still want me to answer?
- I screwed up, sir. - Good man, taking one for the company.
To hell with the company. I'm defending my own people, that's all.
What Major Valchek means to say is that he's grateful
that you extended your support on behalf of Officer Pryzbylewski.
- Fuck-up that he is. - He should be off the street.
What can I say? The kid needs a little guidance, a little supervision.
Stan here thought that if he got a young officer back on the street...
A new unit, a new lieutenant.
- That it might bring him around. - I understand he messed up here.
Which is why I'm saying to you
I owe you for walking him through this grand jury thing.
To compensate, Southeastern is sending you
two new unmarked units and a surveillance van.
Plus, you need manpower while these guys are busy with this IID thing,
all you do is ask.
Lieutenant.
So I've got suction with you, Valchek?
That's what I'm saying.
Deputy, always a pleasure.
A necessary evil.
- What? - Valchek.
Is it insubordinate if I ask what's so necessary?
Thanks for not cutting Pryzbylewski loose.
If you had, the department would be caught between Valchek and city hall.
- I owe you for that. - This Barksdale, he's dug in.
It may take more than buy-bust. It's been in the press about the witness.
It's not an issue.
Keep it a tight little circle.
Three weeks of good street work and you'll see this through.
A couple of felony warrants, a little dope on the table.
That's all we need here.
Under no circumstances is it accurate to suggest
that this particular homicide was the result of the victim
having been a witness in an earlier case.
Reports to the contrary are without factual merit.
Are you saying you know definitely that this man was not killed because he testified?
'We think that... I mean, we're looking into the possibility
'that Mr. Gant was involved in a street dispute.'
'Which, of course, would have nothing to do with his being a witness
'in an unrelated case that concluded weeks ago.'
'But you haven't developed a suspect at this time?'
'No, we haven't.'
- Oh, Bunk, shame on you, lad. - What did you expect him to do?
Grab the mic, shove Rawls to the ground,
declare that all of Baltimore should rise as one because they're murdering witnesses.
That sounds more like one of your moves.
Been working on him two weeks and we don't even have a photo.
It's fucking embarrassing.
- Hey, Pat. - Huh?
- We got a job for you guys to try to run down. - What is it?
We need a photo of this guy Barksdale. We need to know what he looks like.
- So go down to the B of I. - That's the problem.
Barksdale's never been arrested as an adult, so we don't really have a B of I photo.
His juvenile record was expunged, so there's no photo there either.
Then you're fucked.
Yeah, we are.
But seeing as we all came into work today, let's try something different.
So, we know from his mother's social service record
that Barksdale grew up in Franklin Terrace, right?
It occurred to me, being vaguely familiar with the high-rises of West Baltimore,
that the housing project began to take photos
of every registered resident as a security measure.
- Am I correct, Detective Greggs? - Yeah.
So you want us to go to the housing department and pull his photo.
Excellent. You and I, we think as one. We're like two horses together in a harness.
Why don't you fucking do it yourself?
Sure, if you don't mind reviewing homicide folders,
taking meticulous notes, trying to run down a few new leads.
It's boring work but if you don't want to travel to the housing department,
I'll switch with you.
Fuck it, Patrick. Let's take a ride.
- That was inspiring. - I'm a leader of men.
Yo.
- What's up with shop? - No re-up.
- Why not? - 'Cause we out of red caps.
Stink say we gonna have a new package tomorrow.
This weak-ass stepped-on shit we got out here get these fiends agitated.
They still buying it, though.
They're buying twice as much and only getting half as high.
What was that?
Hm?
Castle can't move like that. Castle move up and down or sideways.
- We ain't playing that. - Look at the board. We're playing checkers.
- Checkers? - Yeah, checkers.
- Why you playing checkers on a chess set? - Why do you give a shit?
- Man, we ain't got no checkers. - But chess is a better game.
So?
Hold up. Y'all don't know how to play chess, do you?
- So? - So, nothing, man.
- I'll teach y'all if you want to learn. - No, come on.
- We're in the middle of a game. - Chill out, I want to see this.
You can't be playing checkers on no chessboard.
- All right, man. - Check it, it's simple.
See this?
This is the kingpin. And he the man.
You get the other dude's king, you got the game.
But he's trying to get your king, too, so you gotta protect it.
Now the king, he move one space
any direction he damn choose, 'cause he's the king.
Like this, all right?
But he ain't got no hustle. The rest of these motherfuckers on the team got his back.
And they run so deep, he really ain't gotta do shit.
- Like your uncle. - Like my uncle.
You see this? This the queen. She smart and she fierce.
She moves any way she want, as far as she want.
And she is the "go get shit done" piece.
Remind me of Stringer.
And this over here is the castle.
It's like the stash.
It moves like this and like this.
- Dog, stash don't move, man. - Think.
How many times we move the stash house this week?
Every time we move the stash, we got to move a little muscle with it to protect it.
True. You right. What about them little bald-headed bitches right there?
These right here? These are the pawns. They like the soldiers.
They move like this, one space forward only, except when they fight.
Then it's like... Or like this.
They the front lines. They be out in the field.
- So how do you get to be the king? - It ain't like that.
The king stay the king, all right?
Everything stays who he is, except for the pawns.
If a pawn make it all the way down to the other dude's side,
he get to be queen.
And like I said, the queen ain't no bitch. She got all the moves.
All right, so, if I make it to the other end, I win?
If you catch the other dude's king and trap it, then you win.
But if I make it to the end...l'm top dog.
It ain't like that.
The pawns, man, in the game, they get capped quick.
They be out the game early.
Unless they're some smart-ass pawns.
Nagras. Can you fucking believe this?
This shit is prehistoric.
What else have they got down there in Property?
Eight-tracks? Victrolas? That fucking department's a joke.
We gotta get with the feds. They got light-weights, wireless micro-recorders.
Yeah, DEA got those.
If I wear this on a warm day, they'll know.
Even if they do a half-assed search, I'm done.
Nagras. Jesus.
You can't send his ass into the projects with this shit taped to him.
- That ain't gonna play. - I'm saying.
McNulty and the lezzer from narcotics, they've got the file.
- Who are you partnered with? - McNulty.
But he don't have shit to do with me and I don't want nothing to do with him neither.
Major, I'm a fifth wheel on a car that's going nowhere. Bring me home.
Soon enough. You're my eyes and ears in this mess.
I don't want no more surprises, like that article.
If McNulty's planning any more bullshit,
I got to be able to tell the deputy before the shit flies.
Then you come home with a favor in your pocket. How bad is that?
Lieutenant.
You get Carver and Prez back tomorrow, but Prez is in-office.
No police powers, no street work, nothing.
If the building catches fire, he stays in-office.
- What about Herc? - Medical, until Monday at least.
I wonder what you gotta do to get thrown off this police force.
Keep on with some of your shit, you just might find out.
Where are the fucking run sheets?
Behind the board.
You all go for a taste?
HEY-
We got your picture, don't you fucking worry.
- This is Barksdale? - Avon Barksdale.
- I don't think so. - Read my lips.
Avon fucking Barksdale. His name's on the form in the file.
Excuse me for giving a shit
but I can't help but notice this is a middle-aged white man.
You want something different, give me another name.
That's the only Avon Barksdale in the housing department files.
You got your smokes?
Have a nice fucking day.
Maybe he's white.
No, I mean, really. What do we really know?
"Avon Barksdale. 31 years of age.
"Born Provident Hospital, West Baltimore,
"to Willette Jackson Barksdale, father unknown.
"Educated Baltimore city schools."
Address is in the same public housing where he controls the drug trade.
No flash, no profile. Pretty much comes up out of nowhere.
No work history. No tax information we can look at.
No cars in his name, no driver's license. No kids.
No priors either.
Yeah. Vague Cl information that states he stays in various apartments out in the county.
Addresses undetermined, of course.
He moves from girlfriend to girlfriend.
Might have another girlfriend in New York.
He likes to work out and he used to box Golden Gloves when he was younger.
Been working on him for two weeks and the truth is, we don't know shit.
Golden Gloves?
- How did you hear that? - I don't know.
L...l think I got that from a DEA File,
from a Cl who claimed to know him way back when.
So you write everything down?
Yeah, everything.
- Goddamn bomb, y'all. - Blue-tops.
Double shorts.
In the hole, man.
Got blue-tops. Looking for blues?
Red-tops.
Two for 10.
Keep your jab moving.
Move with your right. Left, right, left, right.
Two punches.
Few questions I wanna ask you, Mack.
Keep your hands moving. Work to the body.
- So who's your target? - Barksdale.
- Who? - Avon Barksdale.
- Never heard of him. - He's got the Westside projects locked up.
He's tied to maybe a dozen murders, he's off the radar.
- Avon, what was it? - Barksdale.
If you say so.
DEA has a couple of pages on him from NADDIS entries.
Nothing in NCIC, no adult arrests.
I've been working drugs for the Bureau since '98.
I can tell you, we got nothing on him that I know.
This little thing is the smile of the week.
Watch this.
- What?' - 'What was that?'
'Get the door.'
It's a career case. Not that my bosses give a damn at this point.
- Why not? - Why not?
All of them mopes in bracelets and not one of them named Osama.
- I owe you. What do you need? - A couple of lightweight body mics.
- Wireless, remote taping capability. - That's all?
Hey, where I come from, we're just happy to be in the 20th century.
Who's running the case, so I can tell my squad supervisor?
Daniels, out of Narcotics.
All right, no problem.
Shit! Fucking rain, man. Y'all know what the fuck this is.
- Up against the wall, hurry the fuck up. - Come on, let's go.
Got red-tops, testers. Get them around the corner.
Hurry up, take them around.
What you looking at me for? Get round the corner.
I want that shit. That's good.
Keep it moving.
- You see that? - Oh, yeah.
Third from the end. That's the stash.
Some real raggedy-ass shit here, boy. Very sloppy.
- How old are your kids? - Mike is eight, Sean's ten.
- That's the hard part. - That's the hard part but, you know...
- How often do you get to see them? - Every other weekend.
- Trying to get more, but she's fighting me. - Why?
She's getting even.
- Getting even? - You must've been fucking around.
- I'm just saying. - You're right.
Always the case. When a woman wants to get even, there's something extra there.
How come you got all this wisdom and your life's so hard?
I've been wondering on that myself.
How about you? You ever been married?
- What'd I say? - If you ain't gonna say anything, I am.
If you're a dog, you barking at the wrong pussy.
- So I'm a dog now? - Meow.
Bubbs.
- I date women. - Something in common. I date women, too.
So pretty much everyone in CID has worked this out but me?
- Nothing to figure out. I told them. - I guess I missed the press conference.
It's better that than to have every police on three shifts
hounding you every goddamn day.
- Cops are dogs. - Yeah!
It's not like I was walking around waving some dyke flag in the air, or some shit.
- I know I look like I could go either way. - Lord, yes, you do.
It was something I had to put out there to get through the day.
- I should've known. - Should've known what?
I worked with one other female police officer who was worth a damn.
- A lesbian. - Yeah.
In the beginning, you're in your radio car, alone, working your post.
- Most women aren't getting out that car. - Right.
Not without side partners showing up.
They're intimidated, physically.
- They gotta be. - You weren't?
Yeah, at first.
But I'm talking about some old straight-out-of-the-academy type scared.
I wasn't about to stay scared.
You know, you get your ass kicked once or twice,
you realize it's not the end of the world.
Most of the women don't want to believe that.
Some of the men, too. They don't even want to go there.
- You think 'cause you're gay? - I don't know.
But is there any other fucking way to police?
All I know is I just love the job.
- That'll be 3.20. - Keep the change.
Thanks, have a nice day.
...baby, say yeah Say yeah
Baby, say yeah Say yeah
I heard you're loving me
'Cause you're in love with me
My baby, gonna feel for you
Like I comfort you
You feel me...
Hey, yo. Dee coming up.
Where does it all go?
Huh?
The money. Where do all the money go?
22, 24, give or take.
From the low-rises?
Damn, boy! You must have that crew humming.
I don't remember a day we ever got this much from the Courtyard.
- It wasn't even check day. - You doing good out there, Dee.
We'll be doing even better when we get that new package.
New package, same as old, man.
- Say what? - Ain't no new package.
Just gonna put that same shit out in a different color gel cap is all.
Might spike that shit with some procaine or caffeine, but otherwise the same.
String, man, people are already coming back on us telling us that shit is weak.
The shit is weak, but shit is weak all over.
The thing is, no matter what we call heroin, it's gonna get sold.
The shit is strong, we gonna sell it.
The shit is weak, we gonna sell twice as much. You know why?
'Cause a fiend, he's gonna chase that shit no matter what.
It's crazy, you know?
We do worse, and we get paid more.
The government do better and it don't mean no never mind.
This shit right here, Dee, it's forever.
That's a bonus right there.
Make sure you buy something that you wouldn't otherwise.
Thanks, man.
All right.
HEY-
You remember me?
Do I remember you?
I was in here the other day. You wanted a drink.
- Did I get a drink? - Afraid not.
Then why would I remember you? You going about it the wrong way here.
All right.
MEW-
The usual.
- This here's my uncle's place. - You kin to Orlando?
No.
Orlando's like the up-front man. My uncle's the money man.
- Where you from? - Right here.
- Baltimore. - I know Baltimore, but where?
You know Turner Station?
Down past Dundalk, near the Point.
The Point. So, you're a country girl.
- You mean county. - Where I'm from, the county is the country.
Where was that?
So...
are you working with your uncle?
I'm his right hand.
Yes, you is.
You want to ride with us in the van?
- No. - Why not?
You think it's a waste?
Touts and children, that's all you're gonna get.
Bingo.
Where did you get this?
Look at this piece of shit.
I'm good to go, right?
Come here, let me see.
Detective Sydnor's ensemble is the latest in Westside project wear.
Have your torn cammies by Versace,
stained sweatshirt by Ralph Lauren.
- Where are you miked? - My dick.
I figure they ain't gonna go down there, right?
I don't know, the way you twirling around,
it might be the first place they look.
Fuck you.
I ain't showered in two days, I ain't shaved in four.
Right now, I am one ripe, nasty son of a bitch.
Yo, Bubbs, what do you think?
- This your man? - Yeah.
Is he low-bottom enough for you?
Clothes is tore down enough, but he could use a little bit more stains, more dirt.
- What's this here, man? - It's my wedding ring.
Shit, you married to the needle, boy.
That shit been pawned off, if you for real. It's a dead giveaway.
You could stand to lose about 20 pounds, some yellow in your teeth,
fresh bleeds on your hands.
So maybe I should go out and shoot up dope for a year or two.
- Come back when I can carry the look off? - I'm just saying, man.
The more tore down you look, the better.
Down them towers, they gonna check everything.
I know you ain't got no problem with the shoes, fucked up as they are.
Let me see the shoes, man.
See? You walking down them alleys of the projects,
you stepping on dead soldiers.
- Dead soldiers? - Yeah, empty vials.
You can't walk down a Baltimore street without them cracking underneath your feet.
You want to know if a fiend is for real, check the bottom of his shoes.
OK? Have him dance on some empties before we go out there.
Get us killed.
He hurt your feelings?
A little bit.
Shit.
Hit it Yeah
Yeah...
Four hand-to-hands, two to me, two to Bubbs, with me close enough to mark it.
- From who? - Kids, mostly.
- Young-ass hoppers. - It's a start.
They're pretty tight out here, Kima.
If you don't hand no money to nobody that matters,
you don't get no product from nobody that matters.
- You want to go back in? - Shit, we copped from every crew out here.
Ain't we supposed to go off somewhere and fire this shit up?
Let's get the fuck out of here.
Well, now.
Did you get to see where the money went after you handed it off?
No.
Nothing but touts and runners here.
But then again, you told us so.
I didn't say that.
But as a matter of fact...
Everyone else roll out?
You were upstairs and out of pocket, so I cut them loose.
Just as well. I'll give them the news tomorrow.
What happened?
I told the deputy we had a few hand-to-hands. Low-level people.
He wants us to put everything into search-and-seizures
- and hit the projects Wednesday afternoon. - Lieutenant.
Does he think that will get us Avon Barksdale?
The buys we made, they don't even go past the courtyards.
Scratch together everything we got from the hand-to-hands
and shape it into PC for the warrants.
- A few locations, at least. - But we don't even know what doors to hit.
A few apartments in the low-rises that we've seen used for stash.
- Then we write on those. - They change stash houses every other day.
Look, the man upstairs wants to see a circus.
A couple of days from now, I got to show him three rings.
Christ.
I'm sorry. We gotta jump.
- Is the Deputy Ops stupid? - No.
This shit is fucking stupid.
If we bring in some arrests, he takes them to the judge, he figures the judge goes away.
Then he buries the fucking case.
- What are we gonna do? - Nothing, except pound out probable cause.
- We're gonna be here all fucking night. - I'm not.
- Where the fuck you got to go? - I mean I can't.
I'm not gonna help them gut the case. I'm sorry.
He's your lieutenant. You gotta do what you gotta do.
But I can't swallow this shit any more.
Mr. Johnson sings over in a corner by the bar
Sold his soul to the devil so he can play guitar
Too cool to be forgotten Hey, hey...
- Why are you here? - I'm thinking about something.
- Can I come in? - No.
No?
What's the matter? No one ever tells you "no"?
Sorry. I should've called.
How do you clone a beeper?
- What? - That's what I need to know.
You show up at my door at nine o'clock to ask me that?
Every other drug dealer has a cell phone and these guys are all on pagers.
What do you want to do?
Bunk and me, when we jack up the Barksdale kid, he's got a Motorola pager.
- We give it back, so as not to spook him. - You want to clone it?
Can we do that without a subpoena to the pager company?
Read that.
- What is it? - Affidavit from a state police case.
A judge signs something like that, you can clone a beeper.
Christ.
Probable cause, coupled with an exhaustion argument.
You've got to show the judge that other investigative methods have failed.
You'll also need a supervisor who wants you to clone a suspect's pager
knowing that it might lead to who knows what else - pen registers, wiretaps.
Daniels will come around.
Daniels will have your ass.
Thanks.
- That's it? - What?
No.
Let me understand. You were married and a date is a room at the Best Western.
Now you're single, and a date is you coming over unannounced
to learn the legal requisites for a pager intercept.
Pretty much.
No.
OK, I hear you.
You? You?
As if you give a shit.
You're an asshole, McNulty.
What the fuck did I do?
- Yo, how much more to that pack? - 50, 60.
Re-up's late.
Have Wallace hit Stinkum on his pager again.
- You want something from carry-out? - Yeah, lake trout sub.
Pay UP-
Damn.
You asked. I thought you was treating.
You thought wrong. I ain't no bank.
You stingy like one.
Just make sure you give me enough.
- No mayo, extra hot, something to drink. - All right.
He going for food? Why didn't you tell me? My stomach's growling like a motherfucker.
- Starve, nigger. - Man, shit.
Re-up's here.
Stink, what up?
What's up, bro? 10 minutes.
- Ten? - Yeah.
Who there?
Y'all got my back, you heard?
Get the fuck in here.
Get your ass down. Sit your stupid ass down.
Get the fuck down. Shit, stay there, bitch.
Get the fuck down, motherfucker.
- Where it at? - Ain't nothing here.
Where it at, man?
FUCK, my leg!
Where it at, shorty?
- Kitchen, under the sink. - Go on and get that.
Two G-packs. Let's roll.
- Just two? - Omar, come on.
What the...
Stupid.
Shit!
Let's get the fuck out of here.
Aw, shit.
Come on, Poot.
Fuck!
- So, your man saw them get jacked? - Part of it.
- And he gets the tag number? - Good man, that Bubbles.
Listen up.
Western uniforms will meet us in the Mount Claire parking lot.
We start there, and we don't stop till we take the doors.
I want their lookouts to have as little chance as possible.
What's with you?
My office.
- I'm not going. - You're insubordinate?
I'm not jumping out on something that will harm the case.
- You want to write me up on that, you can. - You think I want this?
I got the Deputy Ops on my ass for this shit.
- You show me up in front of the detail. - I don't mean to show anybody up.
- Get your vest on. - No. I got police work to do.
If you felt this way, why didn't you call in sick?
- I'm not sick. - Yeah, you are.
Give me a 95 on why you are physically unable to participate in today's action.
- I'm gonna lie so you can save face? - Write it up.
"I can't jump out with my unit because my tummy hurts."
I'm not gonna help you gut this case. If you want to pretend to be a police, you go ahead.
Let's do it.
I'm up.
- You're on medical. - I'm up, boss.
Give him a vest.
No, motherfucker. It ain't just up to Stinkum to be muscle.
You got the Pit. Your people supposed to be ready for the re-up.
You supposed to be steady for him. But where you at?
You in the goddamn sandwich shop.
You got $20,000 coming into your shop,
and you ain't even around to see that shit right.
- I thought re-ups... - Thinking was what you wasn't doing,
and now we look like bitches.
You feel me? We got to come back on them.
And you can't even tell me shit about who they was.
One of them was named Omar.
- Omar? - Omar, that's the name I heard.
- And they had a white van. - I saw the van.
What kind of van?
Five-0!
- Wrong door. - Yeah?
Switched it yesterday.
Let's see your hands. Get the fuck out the way.
Up, motherfucker, up. Turn around.
All the way up.
Police. Put your hands up.
- Turn your monkey ass around. - Put your hands at your back.
Why you fucking with us, man? We wasn't even doing shit.
Come on, man.
- Cuff that one. - Motherfucker, how's that feel?
You fucked up now. You feel it, right?
Why you ain't swinging?
Motherfucker. Go ahead, play that cowboy shit, motherfucker.
Hold him down. Hold his arms!
Spread your legs. Don't make me kick your ass, too.
Get him. You don't hit a cop. What's wrong with you, boy?
...dirty old town
I met my love
By the gasworks wall
Dreamed a dream...
If you'd been here earlier, you'd have seen a beating.
Clean. Not a fucking thing in there.
Pick any door in the low-rises. What are the chances?
Channel 2 wants to know if she can film some of the places we raided.
She says whatever we got, she'll put on film.
- Whatever we got? - Drugs, weapons.
We ain't got shit.
I can tell you were never in patrol.
Right.
- Sorry I'm late. - What's up?
I didn't want to tell you in front of the girl, her being from Narcotics and all.
- Daniels is dirty. - What?
The guy running your case, he's got dirt on him.
You know this?
Your own agency came to us with concerns about him last year.
Integrity questions.
They didn't want to go to Internal Affairs. That office leaks like a sieve.
Plus they couldn't handle a case if their lives depended on it.
- That, too. - You looked at Daniels specifically?
We did a two-month assets investigation.
He has a couple of hundred thousand more in liquid assets than any lieutenant should have.
Maybe he goes to Atlantic City. Seriously.
Did you look at his background? Maybe he's got other sources of income.
- Maybe. We never got a chance to go further. - Why not?
We told your Deputy for Operations what we had.
- You took it to Burrell? - He says, "We'll take it from here."
We backed away and waited for something to happen.
- And waited. - That was a year ago?
Maybe more. And that fucker's still the Supervisor for Narcotics.
So, you tell me what the hell's going on.
Anyway, if he's running your case, I just thought you'd want to know.
Thanks.