01x01 - Dragon Slayer

[bunniefuu]

Deb: What do the following have in common hypertension, hepatitis, anemia, enlarged heart.

I got them all, and you could use them to fail me out of my job.

More importantly, they could k*ll you.

Are you still drinking?

Absolutely not.

When a patient says, "absolutely not," he's absolutely lying.

If you hindus are so smart, how come 98% of you live at the dump?

Five years ago, you were demoted to traffic because of your health.

That's just an excuse.

Please. Share the truth with me.

Okay, I will.

I arrested a white supremacist for k*lling six indians.

Not tandoori indians like you, but, you know, the "whoo-whoo-whoo-whoo-whoo" geronimos.

You were demoted for catching a mass m*rder*r?

That, and at the press conference I sang...

♪ One little, two little, three little indi... ♪

[Air hisses] Despite that, we have a police chief three months on the job who wishes to bring you back.

Chief Cervantes and I were detectives together.

She totally appreciates the full Backstrom package.

[Velcro rips] First you must convince me that you will not drop dead chasing a villain down an alley.

[Sighs]

I'm an underpaid hindu police doctor.

How much payola would it take to pass a guy on his physical, nobody gets hurt?

You get hurt. You will die.

Sorry to interrupt.

Detective Backstrom, you're needed.

Dr. Deb, meet officer Frank Moto, the reason I will never have to chase villains down the alleys.

Oh, yeah. Chasing's my job.

Hey, there's a dead body at the college.

All right. We're done here.

This is my prescription.

"Make a friend"?

What am I, 6?

You have one week to fill the prescription, or back you go to traffic.

Dr. Deb, two things.

One... knowing I don't have long to live gives me the courage to do what's right.

Two...

Deb is a girl's name.

Campus cops identified the dead boy as Tobias Percival III, only 19 years old.

The third? Who's his daddy?

Well, that would be Senator Tobias Percival II...

A senator.

Where's my corpse?

Oh, looky here.

I thought you said he was a jumper.

Oh, yeah. He jumped.

It's the cord around his neck that kept the boy from hitting the ground.

Good morning, lieutenant.

Detective Almond. Now, you're a religious man.

Is it true suicides you go straight to hell?

Is it true that cigars turn your lungs to Chernobyl?

I'm a rich, white senator's pretty-boy son.

I get up before dawn in the pouring rain, and I hang myself from a bridge.

Why?

'Cause I got manhood issues.

Niedermayer: Detectives!

I have some preliminary forensic thoughts to share if you would care to ascend.

Why does Niedermayer talk that way?

I don't know.

You know, it's a good thing the chief sent us out on a high-profile su1c1de.

Yeah, six weeks backing up homicide, we got our first real dead body.

Oh, happy day.

I'm saying we find out why the senator's son commits su1c1de, maybe our next catch is a real homicide.

[Siren chirps] Thank you.

Morning, lieutenant. "How was your physical?"

She asked as she watched him puffing on a stogie.

The doctor prescribed the lieutenant to make a friend.

What's that... the holistic approach?

My doctor's a hindu, Gravely.

I'm lucky he didn't have me make friends with a cow.

[Indistinct conversations]

Okay, make way. Coming through.

[Lighter clicking]

Campus cop found the body hanging from the bridge during the 6:00 a.m. security sweep.

Ligature matches the missing bootlace.

No rigor, so the body's been dead for less than three hours.

What did I say about forensics, Niedermayer?

Forensics are for the jury, lieutenant, but to quote the Buddha, "things are not as they appear, nor are they otherwise."

As it appears for the lieutenant, this boy had manhood issues.

Well, that is an extremely specific conclusion to come to so early in a su1c1de investigation.

No doubt the lieutenant noticed the boy's work boot, which would suggest an adolescent male desire to be perceived as hyper-masculine.

Yeah. That's what I noticed.

So, Gravely, what's your theory?

Romeo got julietted?

Well, my theory is it's too early to have a theory.

Well, you know what's big with kids nowadays?

Getting bullied.

Okay, other likely scenarios for male college student su1c1de are gay sex tape, addiction, anxiety, depression, and other mental illnesses.

Schizophrenia, bipolar disorder.

I am professionally declaring this su1c1de a probable homicide.

What?!

Based on?

Gravely... Homicides, the bureau covers meals.

Suicides, we're on our own.

Who's up for a hot breakfast?

Niedermayer: Uh, lieutenant.

You were right. This is not a su1c1de.

Tobias Percival d*ed of a heroin overdose.

Well, it's still a su1c1de if he got high before hanging himself.

Detective Gravely, the heroin was jammed into the victim's face with enough force... look... to scratch his corneas and to make his gums bleed.

[Laughs] Yes! We got a homicide!

Almond, you should interview some suspicious character.

What suspicious character?

Uh...

That black african-american there.

On account of his color?

Stands out like a raisin in a bowl of buttered popcorn.

Lieutenant, maybe we should call the chief.

Maybe she wants to call in homicide.

No. This case was given to Special Crimes Unit.

No take backs.

Listen, there's a very bad man out there who k*lled this boy and is trying to make me look like a fool, you understand?

We are gonna get revenge, and that is called justice.

That is called paranoia.

Almond, start with the campus cop.

Gravely, get me lists of all the golden boy's friends and classmates.

Niedermayer, come on! We'll go down to the morgue!

We'll talk to Senator Percival II about what he did to get his son k*lled.

I wouldn't start the interview that way.

Make way.

Your son say anything to you about any trouble?

You'd have to, uh, ask my wife.

Toby and I, we weren't speaking.

Why?

Sometimes fathers and sons stop talking.

You don't know why.

You know why.

Can we just say that I deeply, deeply disappointed my... idealistic son?

You cheated.

19... suddenly, my boy's an expert on true love.

That's because he had fallen in love.

Any idea with who?

[Siren wails]

You get anything out of the senator?

Kid recently fell in love, wouldn't say who with.

So probably mexican or old or something.

I don't need to tell you about inappropriate love, do I, Gravely?

Put out that cigar, heart att*ck.

I'm a whiz-bang uniform.

I get promoted to vice, where I go undercover as a high-priced call girl, and I decide to actually have sex with my Johns.

Okay, that's not accurate, and you're saying it to me while I'm armed.

Go ahead. Put me out of my misery.

Our misery. [Spits]

Your next step is to search the victim's dorm room.

No, that's your next step.

My next step is to search for images of naked ladies on my office computer.

They won't let me search the dorm room until they talk to the head of Special Crimes.

Which is you.

I know who I am. Who's "they"?

It's a matter of jurisdiction.

Campus police handle student su1c1de.

You understand.

You don't. Kid was m*rder*d.

Lieutenant, perhaps a nice muffin.

Tobias Percival was m*rder*d?

Yes. It was a forced heroin overdose.

My doctor, Deb, says that sugar is a drug and there should be a policy against it like there is for any dangerous substance.

If heroin was forced upon Percival, then technically, the college's drug policy is moot.

Detective Backstrom was talking about sugar, not dr*gs.

Have there been other incidents on campus involving heroin?

Absolutely not.

Oh. [Gags]

When a person says "absolutely not," they're absolutely lying.

Is the college impeding a homicide investigation?

Huh.

I'm a typical rich kid who thinks someone else is gonna clean up my mess.

Oh, look. Wooden hangers.

There's a sign you got too much money.

You don't really believe what you said before about all m*rder victims deserving what they get, do you?

Yeah, I really believe it 'cause it really is true.

Okay, maybe it's a generational thing.

Maybe I'm just an optimistic millennial and you're a pessimistic gen X, but I still believe in innocent victims.

What did you do? Read a book on how to work with me?

It's not just you. It's all of the old...

Old?

Der. Older people that I have to work with.

This isn't generational.

This is about how many murders have you solved.

How many have you solved?

Ah. It's okay.

You probably read a book on it.

I'll tell you one thing that's not in any book.

Toby Percival did something that got him m*rder*d.

We figure out what, we'll know who.

[Beep]

Nadia, I've got something for you.

[French accent] sh**t it at me.

It's just "sh**t," Nadia.

The college won't cough up the name of the kid who O.D.'d, and a warrant's gonna take days.

You got it, hobbit.

[Beep]

Here's a laptop charger with no computer.

Oh, yes.

That is an excellent trick.

Where did you learn that?

Boys hide things from their dads.

What? An ounce of weed and some hand lotion?

"Cass."

Yeah. I got about 1,000 bucks.

And I got about a pound of heroin.

S01E01
"Dragon Slayer"
Original air date: January 22, 2015

The only thing missing from the victim's dorm room is a laptop his academic advisor said there was a sticker on it like this one. Forensics?

The heroin found in the victim's sinus cavities matches the heroin found in the boy's dorm room.

Nadia, victim's financials?

Four withdrawals over the last five weeks totaling $52,800, leaving a balance of nothing doing.

That's about the going rate for a brick of heroin.

Last year, narcotics shut down a pipeline of dr*gs to the campus run by the cambodian kitchen staff.

Currently, there's no supply of heroin to the campus, per narcotics.

But the boy was on campus, the heroin was on campus.

Therefore, there must be some supply of heroin to the campus.

As instructed by Lieutenant Backstrom, I interviewed the suspicious black african-american, Charles Turner.

28. No priors.

Exemplary work record.

Football scholarship to "U" of "O."

Moto: He was only suspicious 'cause he was black.

I'm compelled to disagree.

Notice in this picture how Turner positions himself away from the city cops, like he's trying to avoid them.

Well, I mean, there's nothing weird about avoiding cops.

Campus cops, security guards... they always bust their humps to mingle with real police.

Exactly... I believe that Backstrom lives intensely in the moment on a higher plane of existence from which he's able to hear the universe speak.

The universe told Backstrom that Charles Turner is suspicious?

It registers subconsciously.

Wow. That's deep.

It's deep something.

[Foghorn blows]

Valentine: [Sighs]

All right, one of these is real and the rest are knock-offs.

Can you spot the genuine article?

What the hell? Are you eating broccoli?

Yeah. Deb says I'm gonna die 'cause I'm too big-hearted.

[Scoffs] That's rich.

Who's Deb?

My doctor.

Oh, well, she's right.

She's a he.

Oh.

He also says I need to eat more vegetables, quit drinking...

[Chuckles] and make a friend, or he'll fail me on my physical.

Does doctor Deb know about your prostitutes, huh, and your gambling and your cigars?

Hey, if it wasn't for hookers, I never would have met your mother.

And if I hadn't met your mother, you'd have no place to live right now.

My mom is very grateful you took me in, and so am I.

Anyway, that makes us practically friends.

Why don't you tell that to Deb?

[Chuckles] No.

A q*eer tenant/fence/thief... No, thanks.

Besides, you can't be my friend and my underworld connection at the same time.

Speaking of underworld...

What did you dig up for me?

Come on. I got to solve this m*rder.

I'm rotting away in the traffic division.

Make me want to stick a g*n in my mouth.

And I like catching murderers.

[Sighs]

Don't make me have to beg.

I tell you what.

Here's, uh... about 100 bucks.

I will help you with this only because I want you to succeed in your new job.

That's not why you're helping me.

You wanted the 100 bucks.

Which I want a receipt for, by the way.

All right, I asked around... junkie tr*nsv*stite who turned out to be completely useless, and a closeted D.E.A. agent who was the exact opposite of useless in, oh, so many ways.

Okay, Valentine, I ordered a bowl of soup.

I don't want to hear how it was made.

Heroin used to be funneled onto the campus through the cambodian cooking staff, but they were taken out by city cops last year, which opened the door for a downtown meth dealer named Visser to take over the franchise.

Visser, huh? What's his system?

Well, heroin's dead-dropped on campus pre-cut.

Visser's guy picks it up and distributes to the college kids.

And Visser's guy is a kid named Toby.

I didn't get a name.

Money exchanges hands off-campus.

The buyer's given a code word, which he repeats to Visser's guy.

Toby.

And the buyer gets his fix.

Happy?

[Clears throat]

But, hey, seriously, if you go after Visser, please take someone who knows how to sh**t a g*n.

Visser's a psycho. [Smooches]

[Footsteps depart]

None of those watches were real, by the way.

[Door closes] Ohh. [Spits]

[Sighs]

Woman: Newly-installed police chief Anna Cervantes, generally regarded as a stop-gap appointment, faces her first high-profile homicide investigation with the m*rder of Tobias Percival, son of senator...

[Cellphone vibrating]

Male voice: Call, call. Call.

The 19-year-old's body was found...

Call, call. Call.

Early yesterday morning on the campus of beech college...

[Coughs] Ca...

[beep] [Raspy voice] What?

It's noon.

Hmm?

About time you called.

I need narcotics to cough up background on a drugger, last name Visser.

Victor-Indian-Sam...

Yeah.

Sam... Okay. I got it.

I questioned Toby's rugby team.

Almond took teachers and classmates.

Toby was generous. He was well-liked. [Sighs]

He didn't drink much.

He didn't do dr*gs ever. What if it wasn't his heroin?

I'm a spoiled brat who defies senator dad.

Why does your voice sound like gravel?

I was up all night working on the case.

It's called a work ethic.

[Beep]

[Breathing heavily]

[TV chatter]

[Coughs]

God.

[Bell dings]

[Indistinct conversations]

[Bell jingles]

Autopsy confirms cause of death as heroin overdose.

Also, residue indicates that Toby had sexual intercourse with a woman approximately an hour before he d*ed.

For future reference, no bodily-fluids forensics crap while I'm eating.

So, the deadliest special on the menu is named after you?

The full Backstrom breakfast is named after my dad, not me.

Ah.

So, eating badly is the only way you can connect with your father.

What?

Old Sheriff Backstrom, he's a legend.

So a profound conflict with a saintly father would explain your self-destructive personality.

Would a saint p*stol-whip a 10-year-old kid?

Sheriff Backstrom did that?

Sheriff Backstrom hates me and always has.

Hate and love are totally the same energy, sir.

It's how we choose to absorb that energy that counts.

Oh, my God.

You really don't mind sticking your nose in, do you, Niedermayer?

Bahu'llah tells us "do not be content with showing friendship in words alone."

Well, tell Honolulu that we're not friends and that I hate you.

[Bell jingles]

Thank you, sir.

Don't do that.

Don't do that.

Good news, Detective Backstrom.

What? Oh, my God. What's up, Niedermayer?

Detective Almond got the name of Toby Percival's ex-girlfriend.

And she is called Cass.

She is called Alyson.

Yeah.

Toby dumped you for someone named Cass.

What was her last name?

Hey, hey, listen. I'm sorry.

We're just trying to get ahold of this.

Hey, she's faking.

Distracting us from finding Toby's computer.

Hey, you need a warrant.

No, we don't.

This is stolen property. Password, please.

I have no idea.

Toby must have changed it after we broke up.

Type in "Cass."

Why did you steal Toby's computer?

Private personal material.

Wowzers. I'll say.

Individuals in a sexual situation with a boy that is not Toby Percival.

Moto. That is a girl.

You can tell because she doesn't have a penis.

With that much forest, I thought there had to be a tree.

Wait, so Toby took these photos and was blackmailing you for lesbianism.

Toby Percival blackmail?

Please, the shame Toby felt for his father stunted his psychosexual development at the adolescent white knight phase.

What's that?

What's your major?

Psychology.

Oh, psychology.

Obviously.

Psychology.

Yes.

I'm you.

What do you mean, you're me?

Toby dumps me.

To prove that I'm better off without him, I send him photos of me snorkeling a girl.

What time did you steal Toby's computer?

I found out Toby was dead online, ran over, say, 7:30.

What did it look like?

His room? It was clean as ever.

Like I said, white knight, boring boy scout.

If I was Toby and a girl sent me photos like that, I'd figure it was an invite for a threesome.

Had a lot of threesomes, Moto?

Regular amount.

Regular amount is none.

I was a mixed martial arts fighter. We attract groupies.

Hey, you think that's the reason they attached me to this unit?

I'm the guy you can count on in a fight.

And for threesomes, apparently.

What's this?

Bushtits, sir. Bushtits and bushtit feces.

It's a bird.

Forensics found poop and feathers on Toby's heroin.

Behold every bushtit feeding station on the entire campus.

Now, testing each station for the presence of heroin should enable us to unearth the dead drop where Toby picked up his illicit narcotics.

Everything you say sounds like a toast to the queen.

Thank you, sir.

Narcotics got back to us on Visser.

First name Eugene. Owns a bar in Hawthorne.

Dedicated recidivist.

Let's talk to Eugene and ask him how he got Toby Percival k*lled.

Visser has no motivation to cooperate.

We'll say that if he helps us, we'll turn a blind eye to his drug dealing.

Visser's streetwise. He's gonna know that's a lie. Trust me.

Visser: The protein in the albumin bonds with the alcohol, transforming this from a noxious libation into a healthful concoction.

[Rock music plays]

Mr. Visser, where were you yesterday morning?

You're cops. And I don't tell cops anything I don't got to.

[Gulping]

Mm!

[Burps]

That'll be 8 bucks.

All right. [Sighs]

Oh.

Oh, no.

You have...

Nothing. Got nothing.

Pretty girl. I'd tap that.

[Chuckles]

All right. Show him Toby. Here's our dilemma.

Do we work you over for the k*lling of the kid, or the drug-dealing chinamen you replaced?

Cambodians.

Lieutenant Backstrom means drug-dealing Cambodians.

Cambodian-americans.

Okay.

Mr. Visser retains this very well-known and very highly-paid drug lawyer.

Mm. Really?

[Gulping]

Oh, wow. Oh, he's right about the egg.

That is magnificent.

I'm gonna insist that you pay.

Aah!

Won't be needing this.

My lawyer will be in touch with you.

[Finger cracks]

Trust you? Seriously?

Did you hear how loud that was?

You got to teach me that.

Visser lied about the egg being healthy.

Bastard.

He filed a police-brutality complaint against me.

Which is why I need you to tell the civilian oversight committee that I acted appropriately when Visser threatened you.

He just pointed at me.

He poked you. That is as*ault.

Yeah, in a book, maybe, but in real life, I'm afraid the other officers will laugh at me.

It's a generational thing.

Lieutenant...

All we have in this unit is each other.

Unit of losers.

John Almond is a burnt-out Jesus freak who's totally lost his street smarts.

Almond's a pastor on the weekends.

It's true.

Wait.

Almond is a pastor?

On the weekends!

He still has the highest conviction rate of any detective in the history of this bureau.

All the forensics geeks hate Niedermayer so much they pushed him onto the sunshine division.

Yeah, they hate him because they hate being corrected by a liaison, and he corrects them because he's better at their jobs than they are.

And we already talked about you, horny little minx.

And what's, uh... what's Moto?

A short-bus cop?

Highly motivated to prove himself.

Uh-huh. And that wacky civilian french chick.

Never mind. I kind of dig her.

I tell you what.

Punch me in the chest. Leave a bruise.

Proof that Visser att*cked me and you responded using appropriate force.

Falsify evidence. [Scoffs] Who are you, Satan?

"You should die for what you did?"

What? Me or Lieutenant Backstrom?

E-mail from three weeks ago I found on golden boy's computer.

Signed Cassie.

Signed Archie.

[Snaps fingers]

Archibald Danforth.

Rugby boy who dropped out of beech college.

Dropped out, he wanted Toby dead.

This could be our overdose victim.

He works at wholly ground.

Cemetery on Fremont.

Fancy coffee shop on Lovejoy.

Damn it. Okay. I'll bring Almond.

Rugby's a sport. Black guy's got the edge.

[Grunts] Ohh!

Just taking up on your offer to commit perjury on my behalf.

Photo evidence against Visser.

[Steam hissing]

Uh, yeah, I sent this e-mail to Toby.

Well, you got your wish. Toby's dead.

Cream and sugar.

[Chuckles] You don't want cream and sugar.

Did Toby Percival provide you with heroin?

What? The drug heroin? No, sir.

I do so want cream and sugar.

Cream and sugar obscure the sensory profile of the blend.

You're not supposed to have sugar, anyway.

Or dairy, or caffeine.

Did you drop out of school because of Toby Percival?

Yes.

Toby diminished me as a man.

Almond: Diminished you how, exactly?

Rugby team hazing.

Rugby. That a team sport?

Yes.

Thought it was something like handball.

English people call it "soccer."

Rugby is not soccer.

I lodged an official complaint, but the Percival family, they have, like, a way ton of influence, so, you know, that was that.

The Percivals got you expelled?

I expelled myself.

Post-traumatic stress. It's a real thing.

For soldiers in Afghanistan, son.

Not soccer players in Oregon.

What did Toby do? Hot-dog butt stuff?

Super-glue your boy bits together and play tug-of-w*r?

Put sugar in your coffee?

[Laughs]

They held me down and Toby smeared black shoe polish on my testicles.

No.

[Sighs]

This coffee kid didn't k*ll anybody.

Did you ever see anybody besides you that didn't love Toby?

[Scoffs]

Saw him get slapped pretty good once.

By someone named Cass.

Yeah, stripper named Cassandra. Yeah, yeah.

How did you know?

Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Toby Percival III and a stripper?

A private off-campus team party, there was, like, a financial misunderstanding, and the stripper just, like, slapped Toby and threatened to get her brothers to break his legs.

[Dialing] [Sighs]

Son, I've been a coach... real football, not bocce-ball soccer... and I'm telling you to get back into school.

Get back on that team, and prove to those boys... no, more important... prove to yourself that you aren't in any way diminished as a man.

And I got black balls, son.

Not any kind of handicap.

[Indistinct conversations]

Portland's got more strippers per capita than Bangkok.

Half of them got to be named Cassandra.

I personally know three strippers named Cassandra.

We used to use them as ring girls for our mixed martial arts bouts.

Wait, wait, wait. What the hell is this?

I ordered deep-fried chicken balls.

Niedermayer says to babysit you.

On account that you live in the moment.

Moto.

Mm?

All that fighting, how many times you get kicked in the head?

Couple times. Why?

This is the reason why you will always be the guy that brings us food.

[Laughs]

Wait. Why?

The card matches the sticker on our victim's computer.

Oh.

Dude.

♪ Oh, oh ♪

[Indistinct conversations]

♪ Oh ♪
♪ Oh, oh ♪

I'm a stripper. Why?

Sexual and/or emotional abuse which undermines your self-worth and reinforces your conviction that the only thing you have to offer this world is your sexuality.

No, strippers strip 'cause they hate men and they get off on controlling them.

♪ You know I know ♪

[Sighs]

When Toby first asked me out, I said no like 100 times.

College boys.

All they want is bragging rights, bagging a stripper.

Not Toby. He didn't brag about you to anyone.

Golden boy was ashamed of you.

I think Toby was in love with you.

He left you 1,000 bucks in cash. Any idea what for?

Boob job? Abortion?

Junior college.

Ah. I'm a stripper.

But what I really want to be is a beautician.

Social worker.

Hmm.

But I got debts, and I didn't want Toby's money.

Unless he was stuffing it in your g-string.

We found a pound of heroin in Toby's dorm room.

Along with your cash.

You his girlfriend or his customer?

Check between her toes for needle marks.

I don't use, and there's no way Toby was selling heroin.

You got that 100% wrong.

He had a pound of smack.

You think it was for a psychology experiment?

I don't know, okay?

But it wasn't his. Somebody put it there.

Toby was beautiful... inside and out.

Wasn't so beautiful last time I saw him.

Do you think the Percivals will let me come to his funeral?

I mean, if I got the right clothes?

I'm a senator burying my son, the dope dealer.

Why wouldn't I want the black stripper he was banging showing up in front of the TV cameras?

[Snoring]

[Radio chatter]

[Tires screech] Ohh!

[Horn blares]

What you do is you see the worst in yourself and you apply it to everyone else.

That is not some higher plane of existence.

That's... that's disgusting. That is the gutter.

Did you do that on purpose?

[Beep]

What do you got for me, Nadia?

Cassandra lastrange's real name is Catherine Turner, sister to campus security officer Charles Turner.

Charles Turner the campus cop?

I don't see the worst in everyone.

I see the everyone in everyone.

[Knock on door]

Checkmate.

This chess set is worth $20,000, and some of these other pieces are worth a fortune.

I let my decorator store a bunch of his frou-frou crap here.

Mm-hmm.

I was hoping you were very naughty.

I can't have sex with you.

Because your poor health gives you plumbing problems.

No. No.

You know I'm a civilian employee, so there are no police rules about fraternization, right?

That's not why I asked you here.

Read that.

Dr. Deb prescribed you a friend?

And you can't have sex with friends.

Everybody knows that.

Oh. So, you require me as a medicinal friend.

Well, I accept the challenge.

But you would have gone for the full Backstrom package?

Well, the moment has passed, so we will never know.

Male voice: Text, text. Text.

Text.

[Sighs]

Gravely and Almond arrested Turner, and I am drunk-ass drunk.

Oh, with your permission, I will administer a corsican folk remedy.

Okay. Please do.

What do I need to know go...

Ohh!

Gah! Aah! Damn it.

Mm.

I'm on a jury.

I hear about the death of a senator's son, a white boy who's been bumping fuzzies with a black drug dealer's stripper sister.

[Sighs]

Who am I gonna convict of the homicide?

I'm not a drug dealer.

Uh-huh.

[Clears throat]

Recognize this gentleman?

Turner: Absolutely not.

Oh, come on.

The "absolutely not" rule can't be true every time.

And the question you're asking yourself right now, the answer is...

[Slurps]

Lethal injection.

I didn't k*ll Toby. That's the truth.

I don't care about the truth. I care about a conviction.

[Breathes deeply]

That boy loved my sister.

He gave her all his money so that she could buy her debts, so that she could quit stripping.

Debts? What debts? Glitter?

She owed Visser for getting her dancing career started.

Visser.

Visser owns the whole damn family.

Visser sees the golden goose.

Bleeds Toby dry.

Once his money's gone, Cass expects him to quit on her, but... somehow, Toby figures out what I do for Visser.

He hijacks the stash from the bird's nest and he tells me to set up a meet with Visser.

I'm you.

I'm wondering if Toby's gonna save my sister.

I stay and watch to see how things play out.

No, Visser told me to go find the rest of the heroin.

I'm Toby.

I bring a bag of heroin to prove to Visser that I'm serious.

I'm Visser. I'm looking at a boy.

I could easily break some bones, get my heroin back.

I k*ll him instead. But why?

Why?

[g*n cocks]

Stupid kid brought a g*n.

All right.

You're gonna tell me everything that you saw, or I'm charging you with the m*rder.

L-like you said.

I... Toby pulls out this revolver.

Visser laughs.

He jams the junk in the boy's face.

Toby kicks but once.

I-I didn't stay for the hanging.

[The Brian Jonestown m*ssacre's "Anemone" plays]

[Tires screech]

♪ Yeah ♪
♪ Instead you're dragging me down ♪

Moto: Portland police! Get down!

Almond: Everybody down on the floor right now!

♪ I could be giving you love ♪
♪ Unh ♪
♪ But you're not around ♪
♪ Now that you're not around ♪
♪ Now that you're not around ♪
♪ Now that you're not around ♪

[Thudding]

[Grunts]

[g*nsh*t] [Groaning]

Stop! don't move! don't move!

Hey! Hey! Hey!

Put your hands in the air and lay down on the ground!

[Laughing] Which one? I'm getting mixed signals.

You want to take your finger off that trigger?

Any guy who can sh**t himself maybe requires g*n safety.

Don't move! I mean it!

You're bleeding like it's an olympic sport!

Ohh!

[Panting]

Lieutenant! What are you doing?!

He was moving towards his w*apon.

But why did you toss the g*n?

It was so far away from him, I thought that... that people would think I sh*t an unarmed man.

He was gonna k*ll me.

Lieutenant.

The bad guy tagged Gravely in the vest.

He sh*t you.

You were totally in bounds to take him out.

He sh*t me. He sh*t me, yeah.

You're in shock, lieutenant.

Come here. Come here, come here, come here.

Hey. [Grunts]

Look at me. You're gonna be fine.

[Sirens wailing in distance]

[Birds chirping]

I'm you. I am a cynical, selfish, lazy man.

Not only did I solve a big m*rder, but I'm a hero.

And yet, I keep digging.

Why?

The reason I was awake last night was because of Toby's g*n, Gravely.

Excuse my professional cop pride, but where did it go?

Whoo-hoo!

[Sighs]

For him I am not lost.

And he is not lost for me.

I hate Niedermayer.

Uh-huh. Okay. C-come on.

This g*n is fully loaded.

Trigger was pulled twice, but it misfired both times.

The g*n is sabotaged.

f*ring pin was filed back so that it barely dimples the cartridges.

Its called a soft strike.

Visser laughed when Toby pulled the g*n because he knew the g*n was useless.

I'm a paranoid psychopath.

The only way I know for sure that a g*n won't fire is...

If I sabotage it myself. Oh. Sorry.

I just kind of fell into the moment.

[Chuckles]

[Buzzer] [Crying] No! No!

[Indistinct conversation]

[Buzzer]

[Breathing raggedly]

The district attorney is going for the death penalty even though my brother didn't k*ll anyone.

If someone is k*lled in the commission of a felony, anyone involved in that felony can be charged with homicide.

But... Charles cooperated.

Let's go somewhere where we can talk.

Can you help my brother?

I don't want to help your brother.

Why?

[Sighs] How many times you and Visser run this play?

Rich college boy falls in love with a stripper.

"Oh, poor me.

Trapped in a life I never chose."

Except the other boys quit after you bled them dry, but not Toby.

I'm a soft boy pretending to be a hard man.

I need a g*n. Where do I go?

My dad, the anti-g*n senator?

No?

The guys on my rugby team who are afraid of shoe polish?

Unh-unh.

To my girlfriend.

The lowlife stripper. And where does she get it?

[Gasps] From her boyfriend, the lowlife drug dealer.

[Voice breaking] You're making this up.

We know you loaded the g*n.

We found your fingerprints on the b*ll*ts.

Okay. I gave Toby the g*n.

[Sobbing] But only because I was afraid for his life.

I didn't know it was broken.

[Sobbing]

How do you know... now?

[Laughing]

You're a r*cist pig who hates women.

There she is. Good.

I lost the boy I love.

Who do you think people will believe?

[Door opens]

A raisin in popcorn.

I'm a stripper... who sends a boy that loves her to his death.

Why does she hate him so much?

'Cause there was a moment in which he made me believe in him.

True love. White knights.

But someone as corrupt as me can never have faith in a person like that.

I stood on the cusp of an extraordinary life.

And I chose the wrong path.

Like everybody always does.

[Door opens]

Gravely: Catherine Turner, you're under arrest for the homicide of Tobias Percival.

I didn't know Visser would k*ll Toby.

You brought a g*n so that Tobias Percival could blackmail Eugene Visser.

Blackmail is a felony. Statutory homicide.

Even when it's a white knight blackmailing a drug-dealing m*rder*r.

You have the right to remain silent.

Everything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.

You have the right to an attorney.

If you cannot afford...

Deb: Your bloodshot eyes tell me you have not quit drinking.

I will have you know that drinking saved my life.

My partner dislocated the bad guy's trigger finger when he was attacking me after I drank his boiler maker, which made him drop his g*n and save my life.

And in my own defense, it had an egg in it.

Come on, Deb. [Sighs]

I drank african tea. I ate vegetables.

And you filled my prescription.

"I, Dr. Nadia Paquet, swear that Everett Backstrom and I played chess and drank herbal tea together. We are true friends."

Yeah.

We're not sleeping together.

She's some kind of genius.

The first statement proves the second.

[Knock on door]

What is taking so long?

I was starting to worry you d*ed in here.

Who are you?

Me? I-I'm Gregory Valentine.

I work with antiques, collectibles, objets d'art.

Valentine.

Hey, look around. Look at this office.

Deb is not one of your rich doctor friends.

And he's not gay. He's hindu.

When are you done? I have a schedule.

No, just go. I told you I wanted to walk anyway.

Oh, right, right. Walking for the exercise.

Yes.

Dr. Deb. [Clears throat]

If you fail Backstrom in his job, he has no reason to get healthy and he's dead in a year.

This young man, I see a resemblance.

Are you related?

So you gonna pass me or what?

We'll talk next week.

Wait, I got to see you every week?

Yes.

I have given you only a provisional reprieve.

I'm a hindu.

I believe after we die, we come back to life.

So, why am I a doctor?

Why am I working so hard at keeping people alive?

Because I realize that reincarnation is a load of crap.

We've only got one life, and it's meaningless.

I'm terrified of death.

And you aren't?

Absolutely not.

[Indistinct conversations]