You do realize I rely on you for critical information like this?
And it's a lot of pressure, Frank, year after year.
Don't look at me, boss.
This kind of intel ain't my forte.
What is your forte, Sid?
Not birthday presents.
Just ask Sheila.
Abigail.
Another spa day is fine.
Sir, you sure you really want to do this?
Do what?
Former Detective Douglas McKenzie is here.
What?
He reached out.
I asked him up.
Why?
Respect for his service.
Yeah, but McKenzie?
The harder it is to show respect, the harder you have to work at it.
One word of caution: In the public eye, he's a r*cist cop.
That's about a dozen words, and it's full of crap.
You know it, and I know it.
- That judge should be impeached.
- Doesn't matter.
The public eye won't blink.
Let's have him.
Mr. Reagan.
Mr. McKenzie.
You may remember Lieutenant Gormley, my DCPI Garrett Moore.
They will be staying.
Have a seat.
Here's what you know.
There have been numerous robberies lately that target jewelry and watch boutiques adjacent to protest routes.
And what we don't know.
They're working the public assumption that it's just looting by the marchers.
Which sometimes it is.
But you're saying sometimes it's not.
I have a theory I can back up.
Well, have at it.
After I left the job, I took over my dad's pawnshop in Queens.
A guy's been coming in the past couple months, fencing Rolexes, and Omegas and such.
I've gained his confidence, promised I'd move whatever he's got.
And I got his digits and his face on the security cams.
And this ties to marches how?
He comes in with the goods the day after.
Like clockwork.
Parades and protests in all five boroughs.
This guy and his crew work these stores like farmhands in harvest season.
One PP's a couple of trains from Queens.
Meaning?
You could've gone to any precinct there.
Your old C.O. in the - .
You're always telling the troops you're still one of them.
Maybe you want to prove it.
Stop shuffling papers, solve an actual case.
You act like I owe you something.
You act like you don't.
You know what?
Don't even worry about it.
Dude, I spilled coffee on my training officer our very first tour.
He was pissed.
So just apologize and offer to pay for his dry cleaning.
And by the way, it's "boss" or "Sarge" but never "dude." - Sorry, boss.
- Reagan.
- Lady at the desk for you.
- She got a name, Wolinski?
Probably, but right now she's demanding to see her baby's daddy.
And she's talking about me?
She said "Jamison Reagan." Got ya!
Alison.
Jamie!
Hey.
Not funny.
- What?
- "Baby's daddy"?
Oh, come on, it's me.
Yep, it's you.
Um, so...
what's it been?
Uh, the five-year reunion.
You had just started law school.
Yeah, and you brought a boyfriend who got super tanked...
It was Don, Dean...
Well, it lasted a week.
So, what brings you here?
Is something wrong?
Yeah.
Six women m*rder*d and mutilated around Beak Street over six years, and not a single arrest.
A cold case?
Not anymore.
And guess who solved it.
Morning, Sal.
Danny.
Don't we have kids who should be doing this?
You'd think.
Wow.
Sal!
Hey.
Dad.
Dad!
Dad.
Hey, hey.
Call .
Hang on, Sal.
Look at me.
You got to hang on, Sal.
Okay?
Come on.
Hurry up, kid.
You okay, Scott?
Uh, my dad's gonna live, right?
Well, the doctors waiting on him are top-notch, so...
Look, you know of any bad blood in the neighborhood?
No.
Anything strange happening here at the house?
Vandalism?
Weird calls?
Okay.
Why didn't you sh**t at the car?
'Cause it's a Lamborghini?
I was taking out the trash.
I'm in my pajamas.
I don't have my g*n on me.
But you saw the driver, right?
I didn't see the driver.
The windows are tinted.
Well, the license plate?
The cops always get the license plate.
Look, the guy sped away really fast.
Okay, and I had to take care of your dad.
Just, it all happened really fast.
What do you mean, "it all happened really fast"?
That's-that's all you got?
Seriously?
That's my dad in there.
I know it's your dad, Scott, okay?
And I'll get the guy who did it.
You better nail the guy.
I will.
Hey.
He's the vic's son.
Can you take him to the hospital, please?
I'll get him.
I'll get him.
Yeah, boss.
And you run all this?
Uh, no.
I'm just a sergeant.
You were always so incredibly modest.
And now in this uniform.
Ooh.
Please tell me you're single.
Oh, my God.
I hate her already.
What is her name?
- Where did you meet?
- Tell me ev...
Alison, you came to talk about the Beak Street Butcher.
Okay.
So, I do a podcast, m*rder in Manhattan. I'll send you the link.
I have , followers.
Anyways, I've become obsessed with these six women.
I went to the scene of the crime, I interviewed people who knew 'em...
So did the NYPD.
It went nowhere.
Because the original detective passed away a couple years ago.
Case d*ed with him.
I'm sure someone picked it up.
Well, whoever they are, they obviously don't care, because they don't answer my calls anymore, even though I told 'em his name is Boris Vache.
You found the m*rder*r?
I mapped out where all the murders occurred, and Vache lives smack dab in the center of 'em.
And he fits a witness description.
And he's a total creeper.
And he screamed out his window at me when I went and knocked.
You went and harassed him?
He's got to know someone's onto him.
Okay, what can I do for you?
You want me to call the detective on the case?
No.
We're past that.
I need Erin.
She's the D.A.
She's a bureau chief.
And she's always been hella smart, and when she sees my proof, she's gonna charge the guy.
Let's just see this proof of yours.
Get looking, buster.
What do you mean, I can't work the case, boss?
You work cases in the - , not Staten Island.
No, but it happened right outside my door.
I practically saw the whole thing.
So that makes you an eyewitness.
Boss, it sounds like the guy did get sh*t about ten feet in front of Reagan's front door.
Yeah, but we already have somebody working on the case.
Matter of fact, here comes the lead detective now.
Mike.
Been a long time.
Too long.
Reagan, Baez, - Detective Judy Farrow.
- Nice to meet you.
Hello.
Can we find a cup of coffee and somewhere quiet to talk?
- Sure.
- Alone?
And?
He downloaded me on what he's gathered.
Handed over the guy's I.D., footage from the store, even made contemporaneous notes of their conversations.
McKenzie always had chops.
That what made you give him another at-bat?
Matter of conscience.
Not to mention we are losing a whole lot of good cops.
If this is about McKenzie, hold up.
Why?
He delivered the goods.
Word is, he trashes this department and its commissioner every chance he gets.
And if he doesn't get a chance, he makes one.
What does that mean?
It means he's been kicked out of retirement rackets and RDNY meetings for standing on a soapbox and throwing shade.
Which is his right.
You covering for him?
I am keeping an open mind.
I did have a hand in his exit.
And having a beef doesn't make his intel bad.
Unless it's a setup.
Say, to send you on a wild-goose chase or get you to arrest people who really are just peaceful protestors.
How about you let me run down his leads before you pass judgment, Garrett?
How about you just let me keep us from getting a black eye from the media?
Boss?
You'll know when I know.
So, to recap, it was a late-model Lamborghini Huracán traveling east to west at approximately hours.
Not "late-model," around , and it was the coupe, not the Spyder.
You know cars.
Uh, I'm observant.
And as it fled the scene, did you observe which way it turned at the end of your street?
Well, I was tending to Sal, but right, I think.
Don't write down that I said "I think." You said it.
Finding this car is important.
Finding this car is the easiest piece of the puzzle.
Why don't you ask me the sh**t's motive?
Why would you know that?
Because maybe I have a theory.
"Maybe" means you don't.
Well, do you have one?
Do you divulge your thinking on cases to witnesses?
How long you had that gold shield?
I'm asking the questions.
Hmm.
- Look, I know you're frustrated.
- I'm frustrated because we're wasting valuable resources.
How's that?
I should be working the case.
You are.
As an eyewitness.
- Not what I mean.
- I know what you meant.
It's all in there.
I, uh, color-coded each m*rder for easier reading.
Plus, it makes it more fun.
And you've gone through all this?
She makes some very interesting points.
I just want justice for the six women Boris Vache k*lled.
Well, we will take this under advisement.
You're not gonna read it?
Uh...
that's my job.
So you're just blowing me off?
I didn't say that.
Well, you kind of did.
I said I would take a look at it.
But you need to understand that we get a lot of so-called proof these days from citizen investigators.
You mean kooks.
She doesn't mean kooks.
Yeah, I meant kooks.
I'm not saying you are one.
I'm just saying, with all these podcasts and, uh, true crime stuff on Netflix, everyone seems to think they're Sam Spade.
A-And, kid, just so you know, Sam Spade was a fictional character...
Created by Dashiell Hammett in the s novel The Maltese Falcon, who then appeared in four subsequent short stories and six film adaptations.
Well, that's, uh, more than I knew.
Alison's kind of a brainiac.
She used to save my butt with the school paper all the time.
Well, then maybe you should, uh, pay her back by helping me look over her case.
- Jamie, would you?
- Oh.
W-Well...
I mean, I-I got the...
I got the day job.
And, um, I would have to ask permission from my C.O., so...
Who I'm sure would sign off if I made an official request.
Eh, come on, pal.
What do you say?
This could be great.
It's great.
Yeah.
Oh, thanks.
Yeah.
See?
This guy's a weirdo.
And Alison found public records he did eight months in .
- For what?
- Falsifying business records.
He's an insurance agent.
Not exactly Ted Bundy.
So you're skeptical?
Your friend seems nice and all.
But, last night, I called the current detective working on the case, who looked over the old notes.
Said Boris Vache was crossed off early.
Did it say why?
Nope.
Just a line through his name.
Well, we could still go pay Vache a visit, right?
And Alison'll love you even more.
Excuse me?
Come on.
Didn't you see the eyes she's making at you?
Vache ain't the only guy she's fixated on.
You're nuts.
And you're not half as cute as another Reagan I sometimes team up with, so we're stuck with each other.
Let's get to work.
So you need anything from home?
Sneak in a beer for me?
Not unless he brings me one, too.
Danny.
Come in.
How you doing, Sal?
Alive.
Thanks to you.
That's what neighbors are for, right?
Except for when they lie to you.
- Scott.
- Dad, he said he would find out who did this and then passed it off to the lady who showed up last night.
Scott, I didn't pass it off to anyone.
As a matter of fact, I spent the night looking into Lamborghini owners in the tristate area.
Well... well, did you find the guy?
I didn't.
Unfortunately.
But I thought it might help if I could ask your dad a few more questions.
Maybe he might remember something.
Not much.
I...
I was taking out the trash.
I saw that car.
And then...
It-it was like...
someone hit me with a wrecking ball.
I know you don't remember much about then or the driver or anything, but y-your hardware store...
- What about it?
- Do you have a beef with anyone?
Do you owe any outstanding debts with anyone that could've led to this happening?
Grievances with customers?
Anything that could've...
Don't answer that, Mr. Marino.
What...
Visiting my neighbor.
Well, he's actually grilling his neighbor, as if my dad did something wrong.
You need to leave now, Detective Reagan.
Thank you.
You never heard the saying "two heads are better than one"?
You never heard the saying "I'm about two seconds "from making a complaint against you for interfering in an ongoing investigation"?
Folks, can you keep it down?
You really should keep it down while he's trying to rest.
Sal, feel better.
Scott.
See you, Mr. Reagan.
I'm sorry about that.
What do you want?
A word.
Further than Alison got.
Yeah?
You asking a question or not?
Sir, how long you been in that chair?
Eight years.
Car accident.
Murders started six years ago.
Explains why he's off the list.
- She sent you, didn't she?
- She who?
My stalker.
Alison Gable.
- How do you know her name?
- When I wouldn't talk to her, she stuck her card in my mailbox.
She yelled out that if I was innocent I should come on her show and clear my name.
Can you believe it?
I'm stuck in this chair for life, and she's out there telling the world that I k*lled those girls.
We'll get her to stop.
Thanks for your time, Mr. Vache.
Good day.
For the last time, Farrow is the lead detective on this case.
Okay.
Why am I not surprised Farrow ratted on me?
With good reason.
What good reason?
Where do you want me to start?
How 'bout with one good reason?
It's her case.
That's... red tape.
No, it's a fact.
No, the fact is that it's a mistake.
Which is just how you look at everything you don't agree with.
That is not true.
You want an example?
I-I don't agree with you right now, but you're not a mistake.
See?
You catch more bees with honey than with... bigfooting around their territory.
You mean "than with vinegar." You know, when I first started working with you, I was struck by how many tools you had on your belt.
Instinct, sure.
But also compassion and humor and charm and empathy.
'Kay, well, don't I still have all those wonderful things?
- Yeah.
- Mm.
- I know you do.
- Thank you.
They're a little hard to see when you're up there driving around in your steamroller.
What?
You stopped responding.
I don't know what else to say.
- Hey, babe.
- Hey.
Everything okay?
Just surprised we have a guest.
- Honey, I'm home!
- Oh!
Oh.
What are you doing here?
I just popped by to chat up the missus.
Yeah.
Alison has been telling me about you in high school and your mullet phase.
It was one bad haircut.
Oh, no.
No.
You rocked that Camaro cut - all semester.
- Mm.
One inch longer in the back, and it would've been a Kentucky waterfall.
- Oh.
- I have photos.
I'm gonna need those for the divorce.
Okay.
Um, how did you know where I live?
Have you not realized my overwhelming powers of deduction yet?
Yeah.
What's your hurry?
Well, um...
it's date night.
It's date night.
- So...
- Oh, okay.
- Yeah.
- All right.
So, um, how's it going with you and Anthony?
Um, still...
I'm still putting it all together.
But you're gonna arrest Vache, right?
Whatever happens, you'll be the first to know.
- Okay.
Mm-hmm.
- All right?
- Okay.
- 'Kay.
So amazing to meet you, girl.
Hugs.
Mwah.
Mwah.
- You.
- Okay.
Later, gators.
- You did come here.
- Okay.
All right.
Bye.
- Okay.
All right.
- Okay.
Bye.
Bye!
It's funny you never mentioned her, honey.
Now you know why.
Again?
Really?
Not here to butt in.
Just came to apologize.
Apparently, steamrolling people is my M.O., so I owe you an apology.
That's it?
Nothing else?
Not a, uh, "Yeah, you were a d*ck, but I accept your apology"?
Still waiting for the other shoe.
There's no other shoe.
Word is there's always another shoe with you.
Not this time.
Just an apology.
Good night.
There's a reason neither of us could find the owner of that Lamborghini.
Which is?
It was rented from a lifestyle time-share firm out of Maryland.
A lifestyle what?
Apparently, luxury brands rent cars, watches, boats.
Whatever you need to keep up with the Joneses.
Or to sh**t Sal Marino.
- Just ask Joel Ross.
- Talking about Joel Ross, my neighbor from a few blocks away?
His name is on the Lambo lease.
Huh, he always struck me as a Volvo wagon kind of a guy.
No priors, no history of v*olence, and when I got him on his cell in Miami, he swears he's been there all week on business.
But you're not buying it?
Flight he booked left two hours after the sh**ting.
He could've driven straight from your street to LaGuardia and made it, no sweat.
Mm, that's a theory.
Uh, it's your case, so good luck.
He's offered to come back, and answer questions.
Want to join?
You want me to join you on the case?
Familiar face might put him at ease or keep him off guard.
Sounds like a lot of fun, but my boss would k*ll me, so...
Didn't blink when I called him.
You spoke to Lieutenant Gee about this already?
Try to keep up, Reagan.
Huh.
Sorry, we're closed.
What are you doing here?
Well...
Somebody demanded I work a case.
Yeah, but if my mark comes in and sees me talking to the PC...
Calculated risk, but...
your reaction says you're telling the truth.
Thought I was lying?
Trust but verify.
The leads that you gave Lieutenant Gormley did not pan out.
Guy used fake I.D., and he hid his face from, uh, your cameras here.
I told you, these guys are pros.
Or they were part of a setup.
Why would they set me up?
Not their setup.
Yours.
I risk my neck to get information on an organized crime ring, and you think that I'm duping you?
Well, I do know you still choose to vent about me to anyone who cares to listen.
Yeah, I-I got a right to be angry.
Yeah, you do.
But what I brought you is real.
And your only motive is concern for public safety?
You know what?
I would say shame on you, but it's really shame on me, because this is the second time that you played me for a fool.
Get out of my shop.
I'm not your enemy.
Never was.
Come on!
I like it.
Come on.
Fine.
- Who's next?
- Okay, I'll go.
Something that's highly overrated?
True crime podcasts.
Okay.
Overrated how?
Yeah, how?
Serial. I mean, season one was fantastic.
Check out Gramps keeping up with the young folk.
- Yeah.
- Okay.
How?
In that it turns a whole lot of people into sloppy, amateur detectives.
What's a whole lot?
- One.
- More than one.
No, he had a friend from high school, Alison.
Brought him a cold case.
I don't think you can blame Alison on a podcast.
That's more like misplaced self-confidence.
Sounds like you don't like the ripple effect of the thing as much as you don't like the thing itself.
No.
If you did a great podcast about surgeons, a whole lot of people would be running around trying to do medical procedures.
He's got a point.
All right.
Judge, what say you?
Okay.
I'll tell you something that's definitely overrated.
Taking your own advice.
Mm.
- No.
- Come on, now.
Hear me out.
Advice... good advice, anyway...
Is tailored to the one you're offering it to.
- I don't know.
- So, if I ever give you advice...
"If"? "Ever"?
Are you kidding me?
Okay.
Or Danny or Jamie or anybody, it's custom-built for each individual.
So, I know what they're gonna listen to and what they won't listen to.
So, taking my own advice?
It wouldn't fit.
- Hmm.
- I don't know.
I think that sounds more like "name a loophole" to me.
- Yes.
Yeah.
- Judge, what say you?
I'm not judging the PC.
Come on.
You named the game.
You got to decide.
- Go.
- Yeah.
The umpire needs glasses.
All right, who's next?
I've got one that's bulletproof.
The wisdom that comes with age.
Boy, is that overrated.
Wait, I was really looking forward to that.
Yeah, how's that, Pop?
When you look back, it becomes about all the dumb decisions that you made.
All the people that you hurt before you got the wisdom.
So, I'm begging all of you: Wise up now.
Eh...
What say you?
I think...
that we've got a winner!
Nice going, Pop.
Winner winner chicken dinner.
Dawn.
That's Detective Judy Farrow.
Ms. Ross.
Where's your husband?
So, uh, where's Joel?
Joel didn't get off the plane.
Come again?
I waited at LaGuardia for hours.
Turns out he didn't check in at the gate in Miami, and now he's not answering the phone.
Sounds like your husband has a guilty conscience.
He has nothing to feel guilty about.
You did hear that Sal Marino was sh*t, right, Dawn?
Who hasn't?
Well, I saw Joel's new car at the scene, which is strange, 'cause who knew he even had one?
What does that mean?
You want to explain how he went from a Volvo to a Lambo in no time flat?
Anything he did is not his fault.
Then whose is it?
Can I...
Can I offer either one of you a drink?
Danny, - would you like a beer?
- No, I'd like you to explain what you're talking about.
What's not Joel's fault?
What'd he do?
Maybe I need a lawyer.
Why would you need one?
I mean, for my husband.
That's not what you said.
You said you need a lawyer.
For you.
Why do you need a lawyer, Dawn?
What did you do?
Come on!
I sh*t Sal Marino.
You were in that car?
No, and-and I didn't pull the trigger.
But it's my fault.
It's all my fault.
Wait a minute, were you and Sal...?
I...
Joel is a...
He's-he's a wonderful husband and father and a solid citizen.
But more of a Volvo wagon than a Lamborghini, huh?
I had a fling with Sal last summer.
Sal said nothing about this.
Because we both agreed it was a mistake, and we promised not to tell anyone.
But you got a guilty conscience, and you told Joel about it?
And he goes and sh**t Sal?
I mean, never in a million years would I ever think he would ever do that.
Yep.
Thanks, Juanella.
Photos are coming through now.
You're the best.
Hey.
Sit down.
Anthony, you're right.
Say that again?
That you're right?
I so rarely hear it from your sister.
So, what am I right about?
I've been thinking all weekend about Alison, and I think this might be more about me than the Beak Street Butcher.
Yeah.
Well, I thought about Vache's, uh, "Why is everyone against me?" act, and something just felt off.
So I called a pal of mine at DFS.
Uh, they're the ones that referred the case that sent him to jail in ' .
They took his license away, so if he's peddling insurance, he's doing it on the black market.
Doesn't make him Ted Bundy.
They're building a new case, uh, about that accident that he said he had.
They put a tail on him.
This is an act.
This...
...is the real deal.
Ted Bundy, uh, wore a cast on his arm to fool women into thinking he wasn't a thr*at.
And now Vache's using that wheelchair to do the same thing.
Correct.
You're rooting for McKenzie to succeed, aren't you?
I'm not rooting for anybody.
Don't give me that.
What's McKenzie to you?
It was the judge who told you to fire him, and you refused to do it.
Oh, come on, Garrett.
I'm the guy who refused his plea to go out and clear his name, and that's why he resigned.
You were his boss, not his PR flack.
And that judge was a modern-day Isaac Parker.
What?
Uh, he was a hanging judge in the Old West.
Oh, of course.
Look, Doug McKenzie got washed away by the current climate, by the mob at his door and the press that went along with them.
Still doesn't land on you.
You said the same thing about Officer Witten.
And now she's Eddie's partner because, Garrett, it did land on me, and in ways you couldn't see.
Enlighten me.
Seriously, I want to know.
To know when and to who to give benefit of the doubt is a part of the job with the absolute worst odds of getting it right.
So you have to what?
Look for opportunities for a second chance.
CSU found the print where McKenzie's guy touched a counter.
I.D.'d him as "Ron Whatley." Runs an auto shop in Hell's Kitchen.
Then they used facial recognition software to compare his face to a video from one of the jewelry stores.
And when the perp pulled off his mask for a half a second?
- Ron Whatley.
- Bingo.
I sent a team of detectives and ESU to his shop.
Just say the word, boss, we go in.
Do it.
And then send another team to collar McKenzie.
But he was telling the truth.
On what charge?
Criminal possession and criminal sale of stolen property, both felonies.
Then make sure he gets in the same cell as Whatley.
Hey, Reagan, you okay?
Yeah, I'm okay.
Why?
Well, you kind of stopped talking the other day.
Because you were right, and, uh, honestly, I ran out of excuses.
How did that happen?
Ah, you said something to me about me that was true, and for whatever reason, I was finally able to hear it for the first time.
- I get it.
- What?
I think I'm gonna need to sit down for a minute.
Okay, all right, don't faint.
Is that your new partner...
Detective Farrow?
Oh, she's not my new partner, okay?
- You're my partner.
- Go on.
Answer it.
Just you two do your thing.
Reagan.
He did?
Yep.
All right, I'm on my way.
I got to go.
Oh, don't miss me too much.
I will.
Mr. Vache, police.
Open up.
Now what?
Just a few more questions, if you don't mind.
Where's the other guy?
He's under the weather.
So it's just you?
'Cause I never saw your badge last time.
Here.
Are you happy?
Sure.
Come on in.
You okay?
Just go to the ER.
We need to get that thing looked at.
Oh, my hand'll be fine once I get it wrapped around this hump's neck.
Hey.
Alison, what's going on?
You're not gonna believe this.
I just got a call from Boris Vache.
What?
It surprised the hell out of me, too.
Must've kept my card.
He said sorry for blowing me off before and that he wants to do an interview about how he's being unfairly accused.
Alison, it's Anthony.
Oh.
Hi, Anthony.
Please tell me that Vache said where he was calling from.
He didn't.
Sorry.
Did he say when he wanted to meet?
Today.
Now.
He said he'd come to my house.
No, no, no, no.
You can't do that.
- Don't meet there.
No.
- Guys.
Guys, I-I'm not an idiot.
I told him it had to be somewhere in public.
It'll be fine.
Thank you for convincing your husband to come home, Ms. Ross.
Thanks for doing it here and not the airport.
Did you tell anyone about this little arrangement?
Well, Marion next door, and you know this neighborhood.
Yeah, I can see the grapevine growing by the minute.
Here he comes.
Now, remember, just one hug, and he's coming with us.
It's okay.
All right, come on.
Come on.
Turn around, Joel.
Mr. Ross, you have the right to remain silent...
He's not going anywhere till I get a piece of him!
- Whoa, whoa.
Whoa!
- I got this.
He sh*t my dad!
He's under arrest.
You want a piece of that, too?
- No.
- Then get out of here.
Now!
Wow.
Remind me never to cross you again.
Is that a compliment?
Actually, it was.
Well done.
Come on.
Wow.
With the discovery, the doctors say they are now isolating bacterium, and may be able to come up with a cure in two years.
You're done k*lling women, Vache.
You heard the man.
Drop the Kn*fe.
Do it now!
Well, I never thought I'd be saying this, Alison, but thanks to you, Boris Vache will be prosecuted for m*rder.
Think it'll stick?
Anthony broke him in ten minutes, and CSU found mementos of his victims in the crawlspace.
So when can I interview him for my podcast?
Uh, how about never?
Then what was the point?
To take a violent criminal off the streets.
And justice for his victims.
But how will my listeners know about it?
I suppose you're gonna have to tell them.
Okay, I don't think you understand how a podcast works.
Okay, before I kick her out, please?
- Thank you.
- Let's go this way.
Headed out.
Yeah, sorry.
Tight schedule.
Right this way.
Commissioner.
He's here?
And loaded for bear.
Bring it on.
Perp walk?
Really?
Well, it helps if the Ron Whatleys of the world think you're one of them.
Because that's what you think.
Because it is easier if they don't realize you're back on the job.
Come again?
What's tomorrow, Mr. McKenzie?
Tuesday.
What else?
One-year anniversary of me turning in my shield.
And a cop who does that, even in anger, has one year to reconsider.
My anger was justified.
It still is.
So was my giving you the benefit of the doubt.
I hope.
What are you hoping for?
That you'll give me the same.
The final call is at the discretion of the PC.
Thank you, Commissioner.
Glad to be back.
That makes two of us, Detective.