04x15 - Favor, Affection, Malice or Ill-Will

Episode transcripts for the TV show "Chicago P.D.". Aired: January 2014 to present.*
Watch/Buy Amazon  Merchandise

Activities of the Chicago District 21 police, whose intelligence unit combats major offenses. A spin-off from "Chicago Fire".
Post Reply

04x15 - Favor, Affection, Malice or Ill-Will

Post by bunniefuu »

[knocks on door]

Hey, boss. How's things?

Well, if it isn't the invisible man.

Yeah.

Well, my undercover assignment, it's wrapped.

How was it?

It was great.

Yeah, I learned a lot.

Glad to hear it.

So now I'm back.

All right, well, dig out your blues.

Talk to Platt in the morning.

Welcome back.

You're knocking me back down to patrol?

You know, actually, Adam, you were never assigned up here.

You had the privilege to be detailed.

All right.

I mean, I feel like I did good work up here.

I had to find out from the commander in Seven that you'd been detailed to Detached Services.

You left me one man short with a bunch of people asking me questions I couldn't answer.

Fair enough. I apologize for that.

I do. It's just here's the thing.

My ex-fiancé was coming upstairs, so I freaked out a little bit.

I needed to clear my head, which I did.

So, boss, I mean, Intelligence, this is where I want to be.

I'll keep that in mind if something opens up.

All right, appreciate it, Sarge.

Oh, hey. I'm Rixton.

Oh, Ruzek.

Listen, I... I didn't mean for...

Hey, no sweat, man.

Just keep doing the job.

What's up, Scrap?

Another day in paradise.

I told him you got my tab.

Eh, if it's worth me coming all the way down here.

Thank you.

What's going on?

There's a guy in town, looking to hire a hit man.

How did you go from boosting cases of liquor to being a triggerman?

It was a friend of a friend who was approached, and they reached out to me to see if I know anyone.

There are a lot of things that I can do, but pretending to be a hit man is not one of them.

So if I call another detective down here, you better not be jerking me off.

I'm telling you, Erin, it's for real.

[subway train whooshing]

Al, this is Scrap.

We've known each other since we were kids.

Am I hearing right, you got a solicitation for m*rder?

Yeah.

But I need a promise from the PD first.

My kid brother, Frankie, he owes some guys money who you don't want to owe money to.

He went south to pick up a car for them.

He got popped, with 100 pounds of weed in the trunk.

100 pounds?

You said it was a little bit of weed.

I'm offering you m*rder-for-hire.

That's gotta Tr*mp any amount of weed.

I'll give you this guy who wants a hit man, but you got to get Frankie out of jail.

[phone vibrating]

Look who it is. It's him, the guy.

Do we got a deal?

Yeah.

Yeah?

Hey, that thing we talked about, I got a guy.

I'm with him right now.

First thing, no names.

Okay.

Heard you need something done.

Yeah. Yes.

Um, when can you...

Not over the phone.

I'll come to you.

You guys got eyes?

Flash 'em.

Good.

You, uh, you said be holding two... two cups, right?

Yeah.

I... I...

I didn't know if you like cream or sugar, so.

[radio static]


So how does this work?

We go to your room, talk details.

Um, yeah, I'm not looking for that.

I'm looking for a wire.

Well, cops don't tape microphones to people's chests anymore.

FYI.

What do I call you?

Pulaski.


You have a daughter, Pulaski?

No.

I did.

[exhales]

Two months ago, this piece of garbage, Omar Fry, m*rder*d her, and walked.

She was only 22.

Her life was just beginning.

I'll pay you 50 grand to k*ll him.

Rebecca Clark.

That's the girl that moved here and was gunned down in Bronzeville a couple months back, right?

That's right, she'd only been in Chicago six months before she got k*lled.

Happened when she pulled over to buy a bottle of water at a corner store.

sh*t with a .45 semi-auto.

Father is Donald Clark.

He is a poetry professor at West Michigan College.

Mother's in a mental institution.

Checked herself in after Rebecca's death.

She couldn't handle it.

So who's he want dead?

Uh, Omar Fry.

He's a documented South Ave hustler, prime suspect in Rebecca's m*rder.

g*ng Intelligence and Area Central Homicide both cleared him, so he was released a few weeks ago.

Since then, open m*rder investigation, no other suspects.

Now, Clark is convinced that Omar Fry's the guy who k*lled his daughter.

All right, Jay, you and Atwater hit Homan Square.

See if you can dig up the original g*ng file.

Kenny, you and Burgess go pay Omar Fry a visit.

What's the next step with Clark?

Let's see if we can get some perspective on the original homicide first, shed some light on who actually k*lled his daughter.

For now, just... just string Clark along.

Yo, Sarge, uh, I heard Ruzek's back.

Yeah, he's back at 21, yeah, but he's not back up here.

Copy that.

Good morning, Sergeant.

Hey, Erin.

So I have a CI, put us onto a major felony.

In exchange, I need to get his brother out of Cook County.

Well, you know, I'd love to help but there's more steps than this.

Especially since it's a snitch's relative and not the actually snitch.

Come on, Sergeant, I made a promise.

I made a promise too, Detective.

I promised to truly serve our sovereign county and state as a police officer without favor, affection, malice, or ill will!

Uh-huh.

[knocking]

Hey.

Hey.

What's up?

So I, uh, had a PI friend look into Rebecca's case.

Omar Fry, he was cleared on all charges.

You... you do know that, right?

Yeah, that's what the detective said.

You know, with the m*rder rate here, what the hell do Chicago cops know, right?

All right.

But now if it turns out that this Fry isn't the guy, you know, you don't get a refund?

I know in my heart he did it.

All right, I'm gonna need, uh, 10% up front for a new barrel and a set of wheels.

You know, you already have a g*n. Why can't you just get this over with?

Listen, you want this not be traced back to us?

I'm gonna need an untraceable g*n, and I'm not gonna pull up in my own personal vehicle to do this, all right?

Look, it's your job, it's fine.

That's 5,000. I think I've got it.

Yeah.

All right, so, just so we understand each other, once you start this, there's no turning back.

Just bring my little girl some justice.

You guys got your work cut out for you, dealing with all these cliques, huh?

[chuckles]

So what do you got for us?

Uh, Rebecca's m*rder wasn't a typical "mutual combatant" k*lling.

It was an innocent girl new to the city.

So the mayor's office gave us a directive to saturate the area.

And you guys like Omar Fry for it?

Ah, well, we did at first. He's a banger with a ton of priors.

He was recorded on a security camera at a corner store buying a tallboy, where Rebecca had purchased a bottle of water approximately a minute later.

We assumed he followed her to her car and it was a robbery gone sideways.

Mm, so now you cleared Omar?

Yeah, we never found a m*rder w*apon.

He passed the g*n residue test.

We got no confession.

Have we given Rebecca's dad this information?

He's in town now, asking a lot of questions.

Yeah, he showed up after Omar got released.

Almost had him arrested, he was so worked up.

Even when I showed him the evidence, he wouldn't listen.

We don't want to step on any toes. You mind if we take a s*ab at it?

[chuckles] s*ab away.

I got ten cases here that I haven't even read yet.

Thank you.

I got a medical card around here somewhere.

Wanna see it?

Save it. We're not here for that.

[scoffs]

After what you all put me through, accusing me of sh**ting that girl, doctor said I got PTSD.

Only thing that cures it is the kush.

[sighs]

Omar, we have to ask you about that case.

Ah, been there, done that.

I spent two weeks down at 26th and Cal, ducking shanks and eating bologna sandwiches for something I didn't do.

Daddy, who are they?

Just some police officers, baby, making sure we all right around here.

Go back and read your books.

You know, only pimps still carry money clips.

So any idea who might have k*lled Rebecca?

I'm supposed to help you guys now?

Just take the money.

Buy your kid some new books.

The g*ng detectives, I didn't like how they disrespected me.

So there's something I didn't tell 'em.

I walked out of that corner store, sipping my beer.

I'm halfway down the block when I hear this pop-pop-pop.

'Course I knew it was something going off, so I looked back.

You saw who did it?

Nah.

But I saw this dude in a shiny hoodie run to the other side of the street and duck into the Red Line tunnel.

The one on 47th and Wentworth?

Running like he was just sh**ting.

And I know what that looks like.

All right, search the drainage grates along all the stairwells.

Bangers file the gates loose, use them to hide contraband.

They get spotted topside, come down here to sling away their g*ns or dr*gs.

I suggest you all split up.

I got three pennies and half a dozen cigarette butts.

Well, I got a used condom and four rat-sized roaches.

So don't complain.

[laughs]

Yeah.

I ran into Ruzek last night.

Yeah?

He came looking for his desk.

Just curious, where do you stand on that?

[clears throat] Him coming back?

I don't know, it sounds like Voight just shut the door on that, so.

Well, yeah, but... where do you stand on it?

You've been great, Kenny.

A real asset.

Bob Ruzek, that's... that's his old man, right?

Yeah. Why?

Just asking.

When I was stationed in Kabul, I lost a bet, and I had to cover up the latrines with a shovel for like a month.

[soft laugh]

And I would take this over that any day.

Hold up.

Check this out.

What is that?

I think we have a m*rder w*apon.

Had the lab rush the test on our g*n.

The ballistics are 100% match to the rounds they pulled out of Rebecca Clark's body.

Any prints or DNA?

Nothing usable.

But we may not need them.

I ran the g*n through the CAGE unit and it came back registered to a Thomas Kade.

Turns out he has been on CPD's radar the last few weeks, identified as "a person of interest" in illegal g*n sales.

Yeah, but what's his connection to Rebecca?

We're still working on that part.

Kade has a fake Federal Firearms License and he's a known straw buyer.

So he's probably not our sh**t.

More likely, he sold the g*n to whoever k*lled Rebecca.

You got an address?

Yeah, uh, it's a business called Smoke Bliss on 44th and Calumet.

Wait, the head shop?

I drive by it on my way to work.

Let's go have a look.

Hey, Hank, I got to be honest.

Something's not equating with me.

What's that?

Well, Donald Clark.

Why don't we let him loose?

He solicited a m*rder, Al.

Not like we haven't done worse.

You know, for our kids.

Let's see how it plays out.

C-can I help you guys?

Thomas Kade.

Where is he?

I don't know who you're talking about.

[grunts]

[groaning]

He's not here! He's not here!

He just comes in once in a while to do business!

Which business?

Weed or g*ns?

I don't ask any questions, man.

I just run the shop!

Take it off the hinges.

Hey.

Wow.

Either you tell me where Kade is, or I'm thinking these are your g*ns.

[dance music]

CPD, hands in the air! Let me see your hands!

Go up there! Go up there!

Go on, hands up!

Yo, I'm gonna need two upstairs!

Hands up!

Don't move!

[music stops]

Hey, seize these weapons.

Thomas Kade. We're looking for Thomas Kade.

Where's he at? Where's he at?

[g*nsh*t echoes]

Coming down. Atwater, on me.

I got you.

[g*nshots echoing]

Unh! [laughs]

[laughs] Yeah!

CPD!

Nice and slow, drop your weapons.

Everybody get your hands up!

Drop your g*ns!

Hands up on your head and get down on your knees.

Drop it, come on. Come on.

Yo, I ain't kneeling for nobody in my own home.

What, are you gonna sh**t me? I'm not armed.

[grunts]

[groaning]

Put your hands behind your back.

Put your hands behind your back!

Get off me, man! Come on.

You got them?

I got 'em.

Don't move.

What's up with Frankie?

Why's he not been sprung yet?

I told you I'm working on it.

Well, work harder.

My brother don't deserve to be locked up.

Dude, I don't just snap my fingers and he's out.

There's a process to this.

When I got news, I'll call you.

Call me?

How about I call this Donald cat right now, tell him it's all a setup?

Tell him he's meeting with an undercover cop?

Go home, Scrap. I'll be in touch.

Nah, I think I'll call him right now.

You want to be stupid?

Turn around.

For what?

You're under arrest.

Turn around.

[scoffs]

What am I under arrest for?

For having a big mouth.

[handcuffs click]

Hey, those crates of g*ns we found in the back of Smoke Bliss, they came back seized from the A*F in multiple states.

They were stolen from a melt-down truck on their way to be destroyed in Indiana.

So this guy, Kade, ripped off a load of seized g*ns from the A*F?

And then he got himself a fake Firearms License and started selling them?

I know, Sarge, something doesn't add up.

Rebecca Clark.

Never heard of her.

Yeah?

Well, one of your g*ns was used in her m*rder, so either you sh*t her yourself or you sold that to her k*ller.

I know people.

I'll never do a day in jail.

He knows people.

Oh, in that case, we should let him go.

Yeah.

[pained groans]

Who'd you sell the g*ns to?

I like this kind of party.

Yeah? Then let's go all night.

[pained screams]
Hank? Hank?

Sarge. Sarge!

This is Group Supervisor Greg Hammet from the A*F.

You need to release him right now.

You gotta be kidding me. This is our offender.

He's not going anywhere.

Well, he's an undercover federal agent, so it's best you uncuff him.

Told you.

I know people.

All right, back up a second.

So what is this operation?

Overload. It was initiated last September.

We got over 1,000 hours of manpower on this case so far.

So I understand, the A*F didn't deconflict this operation with CPD or any other agency?

No-no-no, it's classified deep cover.

No offense, look, guys, as soon as we tell local PD, we, uh, we know it's b*rned.

[scoffs] I've seen the G do some crazy stings, but intentionally putting g*ns in the hands of criminals? That's a new one.

Yeah, man, I was just getting into character.

You know how undercover works, you gotta sell it.

All right, guys, look, we surveil all activities.

You understand, any g*ns sold were tracked by their serial numbers.

Arrests were made if they were used in a crime, taking major offenders off of your streets.

One of your g*ns was used to k*ll an innocent 22-year-old girl, so exactly how many firearms have you lost track of?

No, we don't lose track of anything.

Then you should be able to tell us where we found the .45 that k*lled Rebecca Clark.

All right, look, look, is any operation 100% ironclad?

Uh, you know, maybe a few g*ns fell through the cracks, we lost track, but we have made over 80 felony arrests so far.

What's important here is the victim.

We're in agreement on that same page.

So what can we do to help?

I need the reports on everyone you sold g*ns to and every piece of surveillance you got.

So you're gonna jeopardize our whole operation?

Your operation is jeopardized.

You're through in my city.

I mean, you got a problem with that?

Just ask around about Hank Voight.

Yeah, we already did.

Listen, you can have the files.

Just, uh, preserve the work we've done here.

[clears throat] Hey, Sarge.

Hey.

Looks like I'm working down here for a while.

Uh, actually, Commander Crowley wants you to report to the 27th District.

They need bodies for their third shifts.

The graveyard shift.

Are you being serious right now?

It's what's open.

Wha...

[muttering] Graveyard shift.

Come here.

Come over here, come on.

Look, you did the right thing.

You were uncomfortable with the situation, so you removed yourself from it.

All right, well, if I did the right thing, then why am I getting punished for it?

Because that's life, Adam.

So you know what you do?

You put your head down, you do the job, and you work your way back, one shift at a time.

Oh, my God, I just gave myself goose bumps. Feel that.

Yeah. All right.

27th District?

Like I said, one shift at a time.

Go on.

[exhales] Thanks, Sarge.

Uh, my, uh, PI guy, he says it might not be Fry after all.

So I came by to ask you one last time.

You sure you want to do this?

You know, I was...

I was just thinking about Rebecca.

This one time, she broke her leg.

We were camping.

And uh, I had to carry her into town in my arms.

And she was crying, you know? I felt helpless.

I felt, uh...

It's a feeling you'd only understand if you had kids, but...

[sighs]

Hey, man, if you ever want to call if off, we can.

I mean, I already spent the up front money, but you keep the rest and you pretend that we never met.

No, I mean, I... I've come this far.

I don't know. Give me a night, okay?

I, uh, I'll be in touch with you.

All right, the A*F supplied us with all their UC reports, including listings of all the weapons and individuals that they sold to, including photos and video surveillance of every purchase.

Now, this is Maxwell Clay, AKA Gold Fish.

This guy has priors for g*n and narcotics possession.

And three months ago, he bought a batch of over 20 g*ns from Agent Tucker, including the .45 that was used to k*ll Rebecca Clark.

This guy preparing for w*r?

Well, he's his own mini-straw buyer, so he buys the g*ns from Tucker and sells them out of his bar.

Gold Fish is definitely the worst street name I've ever heard.

I knew a guy named Poodlehead.

Poodlehead, that's definitely the worst street name I've ever heard.

[laughs] Okay, Gold Fish runs a dive in Kenwood.

All right, let's go snatch his ass up.

Oh, your car got downed by the Area.

They're switching out some of the old 1505 cars.

What do we get to replace it?

GMC Sierra, brand-new.

Um.

Please, can we talk?

Okay, this is my dream rig.

You know this, I've probably mentioned it in my sleep.

Now, I've rode shotgun since day one, with no complaint.

It's time you drove, grasshopper.

You're my angel.

Mm-hmm.

Chicago PD!

Don't even think about it.

Everybody, get up.

Outside, now.

Let's go.

Hands where we can see 'em.

Ooh.

Oh, that's nice.

Yeah. Leave it there.

Hands up.

Higher.

This better be good.

I got all my permits up to date with the city.

Yeah, well, we're here about g*ns, Goldy.

Man, I just sling drinks. [grunts]

Uh-huh.

Whoa.

What, like a nine millimeter with a .380 chaser?

Oops.

Remember this?

That's you and Thomas Kade.

You're buying 23 g*ns.

Well, guess what.

Kade is an A*F agent.

You telling me that gacked-out white boy was a cop?

That's right.

And one of the g*ns you sold was used to m*rder this young woman, Rebecca Clark.

Uh, everybody wants a strap.

So I sell them on the side for a little bit of cash, but I ain't never sh*t at nobody in my life.

All right. Then who'd you sell it to?

A .45 Taurus.

You better think hard or you're gonna be charged with that m*rder.

Look, I'm not gonna waste your time.

Yeah, I bought the hardware.

I sold the .45 to my cousin, Big O.

We're gonna need a real name and address.

He's dead.

Sold him a piece 'cause he said he was feeling heat on his block.

A week later, they sh*t him off of 51st.

Who is they?

I don't know.

Some Latin Player he was beefing with.

But you know how that go.

No one saw nothing.

Hey, what happened to the g*n?

I never found it.

Picked it off his body after they sh*t him.

All right, bring him in.

Check his story.

And write him up for every single one of those weapons.

Think I get this Gold Fish thing now.

Hey, you got State's Attorney Jefferies in your office looking for you.

And he's looking for you too.

So where are we with this m*rder-for-hire case, Sergeant?

Donald Clark, yeah, well, we're just keeping him on the hook for now until we can shed some more light on who actually k*lled his daughter.

I'm confused.

Well, we traced the m*rder w*apon back to the guy who bought it.

Turns out that he was k*lled two weeks before Rebecca Clark, so we're back to square one on our m*rder.

These are two stand-alone cases.

Totally independent.

If you solve her k*lling? Great.

But this man came to Chicago, with the express purpose to hire a hit man and pay for a m*rder, correct?

He put a hit on the wrong guy.

He could have targeted Bozo the Clown for all I care.

You don't think we're obligated to find the actual sh**t?

After you have Donald Clark in custody.

Listen, the guy, he's not a criminal.

Because he's a white poetry professor?

No, it's not that.

He's a grieving father.

Oh, let me ask you this.

If it was a black man put a hit on a white kid, would you still feel the same way?

Come on, man.

You got some balls asking me that.

You didn't answer my question.

You know, next month I've been on this job, what, 28 years?

And not once did I ever arrest somebody based on race.

I mean, there's the law, and then there's doing the right thing.

Hey, no one said Clark is gonna walk.

I don't care about right and wrong.

Finish the sting. Bring Donald Clark in.

Or we're gonna have a problem.

[sighs]

All right, get Omar Fry down here.

Set up a fake hit that you can show Donald Clark.

Get him on tape giving you the rest of the money.

Listen, Hank, I think I got through to Clark.

I think he might back out of this thing.

Al.

Set it up.

Remember the Family Secrets sting?

When I had to cover you in, what, two gallons of pigs blood over you because you were supposed to be stabbed to death?

Hey, so did Detective Lindsay explain everything to you?

Yeah, I'm supposed to get dolled up like I'm dead, and you're gonna take pictures.

But I ain't agreed to nothing yet.

Hey, it only takes 30 minutes.

I give you an execution-style makeover, you lay down, close your eyes for a minute, and I take a few sh*ts.

I don't gotta do nothing for free.

Especially after the police almost ruined my life.

So I hear you got a little girl.

Isn't she gonna be proud when you tell her you helped the CPD?

Think you're tugging on my heart strings?

Two G, or y'all can find somebody else to play dead.

All right, go sign out two dimes from the 1505 fund.

Listen, Al, I...

I know how you feel about Rebecca's dad.

I don't want to hear this.

Just go get the money.

So the .45 we picked off Gold Fish's cousin, Big O, he says it was g*ng related, apparently some Latin Player.

So we had CPIC and g*ng Investigations pull the cards of all known g*ng members in the Bronzeville area.

It's a dead end on Big O.

They couldn't find any player who was a documented enemy of his.

But they did tell us that the 54th Street Gangsters and the Latin Players have been at each other's throats lately.

So we took a closer look and found something interesting.

Jeremy Reynolds.

26, multiple g*ng cards, arrested a dozen times.

He was a hardcore 54th Street G.

"Was"?

Yeah, until about a year ago.

Then he became inactive.

He got a civilian job at Pioneer Machining.

Guess where that's located.

Ten miles north in Logan Square.

Which is right across the street from Grainger, which is where Rebecca Clark worked as a clerk in Shipping and Receiving.

Well, I mean, we know the Players and the 54th Street G's do have a pretty long history of g*ng warfare.

How Rebecca Clark got involved, I have no idea, but this could be a retaliation hit, Sarge.

Yeah, well, why don't you start by asking him?

[tools grinding]

Hey, excuse me, we need to ask you some questions, Jeremy.

About what?

About her. You know her?

I'd say that's a yes.

Let's clock him out for the day.

Yeah, come on, let's go.

You know what a nexus is, Jeremy?

It's just a $10 word meaning connection.

Like how you're connected to Rebecca Clark, or, more to the point, to her homicide.

I didn't k*ll her.

But you admit you did know her, right?

We met on a lunch break.

Where we worked, it's all industrial.

Everyone goes to the same strip mall for lunch.

So we went on a date that night, that's all.

So you admit that you were with her that night.

Your first date and she ends up k*lled.

You see how you're the nexus, Jeremy?

We have a g*ng card in there that says that you're connected to the 54th Street G's.

You better update your records.

I got out of the life a while ago.

Yeah, but that life always follows you.

You know that.

That's g*ng retaliation.

What we don't know is were you the target or were you the instigator, Jeremy?

You never saw her like that because you ran as soon as you heard g*nshots.

You left that girl to die, didn't even call 911.

Which, by the way, the medical examiner said probably would have saved her life.

Mm-hmm.

Who sh*t at you, Jeremy?

Who k*lled Rebecca?

Getting out of the life, that doesn't make me a snitch.

Yeah, what about a human being?

You want to do right by her?

Then help us out.

It just might give you and her some peace.

Yeah.

Let's do it.

You sure?

Yeah.

Carlos Brigante, 26, lifelong Latin Player.

Turns out he's been gunning for Jeremy Reynolds ever since Reynolds sh*t his baby brother, Pikey Brigante, in the ass two years ago.

Reynolds say what went down?

Yeah, talk about random.

After work, Reynolds and Rebecca Clark, they go out to dinner.

Now, Reynolds doesn't have a car.

So being the nice girl that Rebecca is, she offers to drive him home.

They stop at the corner store just as Brigante happens to be walking by.

He spots Reynolds, pulls his g*n, sh**t up the car.

Reynolds dives out the passenger side, doesn't get hit once.

So Brigante is our silver hoodie?

That's right, emptied his piece, ran into the Red Line station.

Rebecca was just a casualty.

Intelligence.

Wrong place, wrong time.

All this over some old beef.

Thanks.

g*ng Unit has the location on Brigante.

A Players stash house in Pilsen.

Good.

[expl*si*n]

[groaning and coughing]

Chicago PD!

[blow lands]

Get down! Get down on the...

Turn over!

[g*n f*ring]

[g*nshots]

[g*n f*ring]

Hey, he's got a vest on.

Aim for his head.

Got it.

[g*n f*ring]

[g*nshots]

[g*nsh*t]

Dispatch, we got sh*ts fired by the offender and police.

Offender is down with a g*nsh*t to the head.

You all right, girl?

Yeah.

You all right, just breathe.

It's done.

Two in the back of the head.

Oh, my God.

The back half of what you owe me.

Yes, o... okay.

[exhales]

Oh, my God.

It's all there, it's there.

Listen, I... I... I guess I should say thank you.

Thank you.

You know, Omar Fry, he didn't k*ll your daughter.

What do you mean?

But we caught the guy that did.

[doors opening]

You're a cop?

I'm sorry.

Oh.

Hey... [grunts]

Up against the wall.

Donald Clark, you're under arrest for the solicitation of m*rder.

Come in here.

All right.

This is everything you came in with.

It's $33 cash, a Metro pass, your phone, and your shoelaces.

I spoke to the state's attorney.

Your brother's gonna be out in an hour.

Next time I get something, I'm taking it to my guy in Narcotics.

He won't lock me up for bringing him a score.

I got your brother out on 100 pounds of weed.

And that old man you set up is gonna do ten years for trying to avenge his kid.

Come on, Scrap.

Don't be a sore winner.

I'll be seeing you.

I worked with your old man.

Fresh out of the academy.

Yeah?

Yeah.

Good ol' Disco Bob.

My first days were spent shotgun in your old man's patrol car.

Small world.

We, uh, we locked up this drunk kid one night.

And I'm... I'm uncuffing him to put him in the t*nk, and he takes a swing at me.

And of course I teach him a lesson, sent him back on his ass.

Turns out he's my desk sergeant's godson.

The desk sergeant threatened to send me down to Hegewisch.

And only later did I find out that, uh, that your old man played poker with him.

Worked it all out.

You know, if you send him a bottle of something barrel aged, he'll appreciate you for it.

This sergeant I know, he's, uh, he's putting together a narcotics team, wants me to be his number two.

It's lots of surveillance, which, you know, means lots of overtime.

Put your stuff back in your locker.

What? No.

Brother, you don't owe me. You don't owe me a thing.

Look, my last g*ng team, we were tight for five years.

And I thought that that's... that's where I belonged.

And I lost that.

I know how this feels.

So as far as your desk is concerned, I was just holding it down for you.

Tell your dad hi for me.

I will.

Hey.

Hey.

Uh, Dad, I know why you called.

I'm not moving back home.

Hold on, slow down, slow down.

I didn't call you because of that.

Then what's the deal?

I've got Jason waiting for me outside.

All right, um.

I just wanted to say how much I love you.

Okay.

Uh.

You could have told me that over the phone.

I know.

Just give me a hug.

Well, look who's classing up the joint.

Brian.

What can I get for you?

Vodka tonic.

And, uh, I've got his next one.

Done.

[sighs]

We had this case.

Black kid, 14, was k*lled by this white store owner up in, uh, Rogers Park.

They got into this argument over the price of milk, and it escalated.

Store owner thought the kid was pulling a g*n when the kid was going for his wallet, and he sh*t the kid dead.

Claimed self-defense, and he walked, this morning.

I came at you with a full head of steam.

I want to apologize.

Hey.

You know, I got two daughters...
Post Reply