02x03 - Blue on Blue

[bunniefuu]

Female reporter: We're standing here at Whitman High School...

Female reporter #2: According to witness accounts ... where you can see behind me there are dozens of students here.

We don't really know what happened there at the bus.

They've got cards. They've got pictures.

All of them are grieving tonight after that terrible tragedy.

[camera shutters clicking]

It's something a lot of the students say that they've ... don't have a lot of details at this time.

Obviously, a huge shock.

A lot of parents are here tonight.

As you can see, they've lit candles.

There's flowers they put up.

They've got candles and signs.

And some of them read "hero," "brother."

Beautiful, handwritten notes expressing their emotion over this and trying to make sense of what happened.

Stone: We don't have a lot of details at this time.

But we will be updating you with details as they come in.

This is Cathy Stone with KQWK3.

Man: Hey, Cathy. It's Siletti.

Mr. Siletti! Cathy Stone, KQWK3.

Has there been a discussion of federal involvement or terrorism charges in this case?

I'm sorry. I'm... I'm just here to pay my respects as a private citizen.

You're the District Attorney of San Francisco.

You've got nothing to say?

Mr. Siletti, what's your position on the death penalty?

Do you consider the bus m*ssacre to be a criminal act worthy of capital punishment?

I consider what happened over the last two days to be this city's most painful tragedy.

What I can do... What I must do as your District Attorney is seek justice for the young people we lost.

They were San Francisco's children.

And their families' pain... is our pain.

District Attorney Siletti here at Whitman High School.

We'll be updating you with details as they come.

Raffi: Homicide and Crime-Scene unit are on the way.

In the meantime, stay out of that grow house.

Yo, yo, truth?

My mom gonna k*ll me if I'm late.

We'll call her.

She trippin' already.

Ever since those white fools sh*t up that bus, she want to know where I'm at 24/7.

[sighs] Ain't nobody sh**ting up buses out here.

'Sides, what's a boo like you doing in blue?

[scoffs] I work the g*ng unit.

Jalil, where's the burner, the strap? Come on.

I already told you.

I don't know nothing about no g*n, baby girl.

[siren wailing]

I was just slidin' through.

[man whistles]

[wailing continues]

Who's that?

Homicide.

How much did this house yield?

Seven figures a month.

Wow.

Yeah. Every g*ng in the city has got their hand in the grow game.

They're shipping as fast as they can before the law catches up to them, but it's getting messy.

There have been seven grow-house hits in this district alone in the past month.

All well-ex*cuted, professional.

Connected?

Not my first instinct.

Different styles, different gangs.

This is a "bahala na" house... Filipino.

The last one was Samoan, down by the bakery.

Usually just simple smash-and-grabs.

But this situation here? This is new.

This kid work here?

No chance.

He's from China. Victor Chan, 18 years old.

California I.D. has him living in Stockton, but address doesn't check out.

Jalil sh*t this kid?

We found Jalil on the ground with a twisted ankle.

No g*n, no GSR on him, just blood on his shoes.

Yeah, along with some others.

Well, he came in with them... his crew.

Or Victor Chan's crew.

This kid was clearly connected.

Chan was flying solo.

Jalil rolled in here with a bunch of stick-up kids from Potrero.

How do you know?

He told me.

Then he realized he told me and zipped lips.

Oh.

These are g*dd*mn kids.

So, no m*rder w*apon, no CCTV, and no witnesses other than Jalil?

No, not yet. But Jalil was definitely there.

I told him I was gonna arrest him, but we should probably sweat him out in the box for a bit before we do anything official.

We might as well hit the kid for m*rder if he's not talking, right?

He's 13.

We charge him with m*rder and his life's over, so we better be right about this.

[sighs]

No, this kid was running with gangs, all right.

He's involved in a crime that ended in m*rder.

Navarro's right.

He's a worthy suspect in the eyes of the law.

Hey. Did you see this?

I didn't make Siletti to be a politician, but this speech he gave last night at Whitman...

[whistles] ...it's... it's gone... it's gone viral.

I mean, there's, like, 400,000 views.

Terry, I'm not trying to bury Jalil, but...

Look at the board, Hildy.

We got 50 open ca... No, charge the kid.

We're gonna clear this up and move on.

And while Koto is gone, you two are riding together.

Fine.

Cool.

So, if I'm with her, who's got, uh, Molky?

Junior McCormack.

My brother?

Uh-huh.

[sighs] He's sitting at my desk.

[sighs]

Hil-billy.

Where's he gonna sit?

My desk.

I wasn't far off.

Come on. You didn't think I was gonna be stuck in Vice forever, did you?

What are you gonna do without all your hookers and your blow?

[laughs] Celebrate.

This Sunday... me, Mary, the girls, Mom and Dad.

You should come.

[scoffs]

Mom's always crying that she doesn't get to see you.

Says she's forgetting what Louise looks like.

Uh, Terry, do you have an assignment for him or something, please?

Yeah. You and Molk are gonna be on the Sarah Tran case.

I thought this was Homicide.

You really gonna stick me on a Missing-Persons case?

Hey!

[drawer closes]

It's a missing cop.

Get to work.

[clears throat]

Made another fan.

We all prayed for those kids on the school bus, but what we want to know is, if y'all thinking about the kids here in Potrero?

They're dying, too!

The SFPD is here for you just as much as anyone else.

We want to talk about solutions.

That's what today is about.

Same line we always hear.

You know, we grateful for your pancakes.

Yo, they all gone?

What we really prefer is your protection.

Ain't that right?

[crowd shouting]

Officer: Calm down!

Ladies and gentlemen, please calm down.

Please take your seats.

Terry: Hey.

I can't hear you.

Man: We want protection!

We want protection!

I can't hear you.

We want protection!

We want protection!

[coughs]

[chuckles]

It's medical, man.

You good, you good.

Then why you smiling?

[chuckles]

I like your style.

I like that you're a banger with the balls to light up in front of a room full of cops, but then courteous enough to step outside to do it.

It's classy.

Respect.

Respect. From a soldier?

Soldier?

Soldier's ain't there for respect.

What, you a boss?

I didn't say that.

I'm just explaining to you how this works.

Okay.

A soldier enforces, you understand?

Okay.

And bosses respect.

Okay. So, then, where's your shadow?

I know you can't be out here talking to no cop without a sha... There he is.

What's your name?

Who, me?

Mm-hmm.

"Retired."

[chuckles]

This cat next in line?

Fatty B?

He ain't no boss.

Look at this thin mint.

[chuckles]

He's skinny as one of them Chinese b*tches y'all pull out of them shipping containers.

Why you got to embarrass me in front of pork, man?

Oh, settle down, now.

We're here to reduce crime.

Why won't you tell me your name?

'Cause you already know it.

It's been a few years since we crossed in the cuts, but I ain't lost track of you, English.

You know what?

I got your whole résumé on file.

sn*per. Desert Storm.

Then you bounce into the blue at, what... it was 22, right?

Mm-hmm.

You spent two years on the b*at, looking all clean.

Then you went straight into Gangs.

Then you got promoted after those Hill stabbings into Homicide.

I don't lose track of nobody, Inspector.

I keep my eyes wide.

Don't blink.

I don't.

I'm good.

All right, Inspector.

Is that Suger Cascade?

Mm-hmm.

I heard "officer down" over the radio.

The next time I saw Walt... [voice breaking] ...he was dead.

[sighs]

I can't believe that kid k*lled my partner.

[breathing shakily]

Thank you for your time, Inspector Peat.

[recorder clicks]

And we're sorry for your loss.

[door closes]

Same story as all the rest of them.

Why don't you take some time?

[sniffles] No. I'm okay.

Kaleb... you lost a partner.

I should have been there.

Mnh. Don't do that to yourself.

Alfie Rentman did what he did.

He's gone. It's justice.

Now we all got to move on.

Get out of town.

Find a beach.

And, uh, come back when you're ready.

You sure?

Yeah, man.

Okay.

[sighs]

[rapping] ♪ All they selling is the same social disease ♪
♪ Just to different degrees ♪
♪ This city ain't got no gentrified homicide ♪
♪ They trying to cage me ♪
♪ Act all casual, think I don't know ♪
♪ They see me as an animal ♪
♪ But I just play along like they're instrumental ♪
♪ Don't want to change them into something sentimental ♪

He ready to talk?

No. But his mama sure is.

♪ Yous don't even understand the text when I send my mental ♪

[door buzzes]

Hildy: Mrs. Thompson, I understand that you're upset.

You don't know nothing.

If you think Jalil did something, you don't know nothing.

I got three bad ones. Jalil's the good one.

He's a good boy!

I understand, and I want the same thing you want...

Jalil back home.

But he needs to talk to me.

You want him to snitch?!

First, I don't think he knows sh*t.

He doesn't run with that crew.

Second, we from Potrero.

They k*ll where we from.

So if he even talks to you, he's dead.

You want him dead?

No, and I promise you that's not my intention.

Oh, so you're gonna protect him?

Is that what you're telling me?

You gonna be the white cop that follows him around, keeps him safe?

You gonna be there when he walks to school?

You gonna be there when he walks back?

You gonna watch him every single minute of every day?

'Cause that's what you're gonna have to do if you think you're gonna keep my boy safe in Suger's Potrero.

He's got a thousand eyes, and you've got two.

And you're telling me you're gonna keep those two on him every minute of every day, around the clock?

Please.

You're gonna ruin a boy's future, k*ll his hopes and dreams for what?

For a crime you and I both know he didn't commit!

Woman on TV: 18 students and five adults were k*lled in what has been deemed "the deadliest school sh**ting in an urban setting."

Dustin Maker, the only surviving sh**t, was taken to St. Ignatius Hospital in stable condition.

A bystander captured

this cellphone video of the sh**ting.

Man: Lieutenant.

Daniel Murphy, former marine field medic, said nothing he had seen in Afghanistan prepared him for the emotional impact of a bus full of teens dead and dying.

Lieutenant.

Looking good, sir.

I'm getting there.

Can I talk to him?

Sure. He just woke up from a nap.

He's been mirandized.

Who the hell gave you flowers?

The nurses.

They were delivered for Mrs. Weaver down the hall.

What, Mrs. Weaver, she, uh... she didn't like them?

No. Uh... Mrs. Weaver's dead.

[scoffs]

You don't get flowers.

You don't get TV.

Oh.

You're the cop who sh*t me.

Lieutenant Koto.

I thought I k*lled you.

I wish you had.

Then why did you wear Kevlar?

A sh*t to the heart would have been too messy.

That's not the way I wanted to go out.

You wanted a head sh*t.

I still do.

[chuckles]

Brown: You're talking in another language.

Just say it in a way that I can understand.

Then let me say it.

According to our guy at SFPD, Dustin seems pretty lucid.

[sighs]

He's not gonna pass the M'Naghten threshold.

Without a sanity option, this case gets a whole lot tougher.

Yes, and... if this is about the death penalty for Siletti, we're not gonna get a chance to plead this out.

We're going to trial.

Only to face a D.A. who's fueled by the outrage of a devastated city.

And we... we do not have the cash to interview a thousand friends, his teachers, and family members, and expert witnesses.

We cannot compete with Siletti's resources.

We will get embarrassed.

What about 987 funds?

They'll dry up before our opening statements.

I don't know.

[sighs]

Maybe we should consider bringing on outside counsel.

[sighs]

What about Jamie Nelson?

I thought she was dead.

She's teaching at Stanford.

She put herself out to pasture after... [inhales sharply] things went sideways with the people vs. Dixon.

So that was the last time she was in court?

Yeah, it's been about five years.

[chuckling] Five years?!

So she hung up her cleats, got in her Tesla, and drove off to that g*dd*mn white tower?

We should want her life. Why would she want ours?

[laughs]

Look, I know it's a long sh*t, but I know her.

Look, bottom line, Nelson is a gamer.

She lives for this. It's in her blood.

Meanwhile, five years teaching law to a bunch of rich white kids who... who... who are hoping to be the next junior associate at Gibson Dunn?

I'm telling you, she's watching paint dry, and then cr*ck, and then peel, and then fall off the g*dd*mn wall down there.

I guarantee you she is bored.

Is she still on the board at the ACDU?

Yeah.

And she has the Innocence Fund's checkbook in her purse.

Really?

Really.

Sweet.

Jamie: 45 years later, the questions posed by the so-called "Stanford prison experiment" still remain.

Can we, as a society, continue to endorse a justice system designed to label individual bad actors as evil despite the direct correlation... [door opens] ...between mental illness and criminal acts of v*olence?

As neuroscience continues to unravel our very concept of free will, what is justice?

Can we continue to blame the bad apple for its condition without first acknowledging that the tree itself might be poisoned?

Okay. Uh, if anyone has any additional questions, I'll be here for the next 10 minutes.

[laughs] Aaron Mazur.

What a surprise.

We... we used to mob you after class.

What happened to these kids?

Cellphones.

Ah.

Your boss is right. I put myself out to pasture.

Nothing's permanent, right?

Look around.

Pretty nice pasture.

[both chuckle]

Fine. You miss the action.

Oh.

Defending the indefensible?

In front of the entire world.

Aaron, I'm sorry you drove all this way, but the fact remains I'm not a trial lawyer anymore.

Okay.

All right, will you just look at the file, then?

[stammers] We're in over our heads here, Jamie.

I would give anything to pick your brain.

All right, I'll look at it tonight, but that is it, Mr. Mazur.

[laughs]

Please E-mail me the file.

Oh, I work for the government.

We're still using Netscape.

[laughs]

[door opens, closes]

Terry: Ugh, Burn, do we really have to do this here?

Dr. Roz, could I have a minute, please?

I could use a break.

I need a coffee.

Thank you.

This is the b*llet I pulled out of Walt's head, and it is a .40 caliber.

Okay.

Not okay.

I've been pulling Alfie's b*ll*ts out of bodies all day, and he used two types of b*ll*ts.

He used 9mm, 124-grain FMJs and .223/5.56 calibers.

But Walt was k*lled with a .40 cal.

So the b*llet that k*lled Walt didn't come from either of Alfie's g*ns.

All the others within close range were police officers.

We're all issued .40s, which is why we're talking privately.

Oh, if this is a policeman... this building's gonna be split at the seams.

Yeah, well, talking out of my depth here, Terry.

Um... All right, let's say we're betting on, uh, friendly fire, right?

You have a whole bunch of angry, tired cops who are running through pitch-black tunnels, right?

There's the angle of the entry wound.

He was sh*t from behind at an angle.

Haphazard?

What's this, g*nsh*t residue?

Yeah. It's a pretty wide pattern.

Couple inches at least.

Which means it was at close range.

3 to 5 feet.

Which means it wasn't friendly fire.

Yeah.

[distorted conversation]

Molk: [distorted] Everyone was running past me, and I followed them.

And I saw Walt there on the ground.

There was blood everywhere.

[normal voice] Someone tried to start CPR, but it was too late.

[recorder clicks]

I think that's all that we have.

Thanks for your time.

Are you sure? Because it's no bother.

We have 20 more interviews like this to complete before 6:00 P.M.

Right.

Lieutenant, you coming?

Oh, I'll catch up.

Okay, thank you.

How many cops have you interviewed so far?

About 50.

And how many of them were in the north tunnel, where Walt was sh*t?

I don't know. About 20.

Could go as high as 26 or 27 if you'd let us proceed with our interviews.

I need a list of them.

Now.

[up-tempo music playing]

Fine.

Come on, Junior. Have another dance.

No, I'm good.

Get off me.

♪ Tough exterior to see right through it ♪
♪ I go right through, then "it's a pleasure to meet you" ♪
♪ You thinking what I got 'cause I gave you a preview ♪
♪ You're not on my level, I could make you my equal ♪
♪ Say "I'm willing to learn, will I make you a teacher ♪
♪ So, can I get the level where I'm able to reach you?" ♪
♪ Miss Cindy, she's a sexy, little thing ♪
♪ Miss Cindy, she's a sexy, little thing ♪
♪ Miss Cindy, she's a sexy, little thing ♪

Nothing?

Man: Oh, yeah. She worked the night shift.

But, you know, I switched to days a couple weeks ago, and I haven't seen her since.

She quit?

Or... you just haven't worked the same shifts?

[laughs] I don't know, man. I don't keep track.

Girls come and go in this business.

Do you know her name?

Well, her stripper name... "Whisper."

[clears throat]

Hey, Bub.

Can I get a sh*t of water, whiskey back?

Kentucky James.

[clears throat] It's my lunch break.

Can I ask you a question?

In a room full of professional naked women, you were talking to the dude behind the bar with a "Village People" goatee.

There something you want to tell me?

Huh?

He's just the first person I saw.

Buzz. Try again.

[sighs]

Look, I... I am conflicted about strippers.

Conflicted how?

I know a lot of them feel empowered by what they do, but... a lot of them are victims reliving their trauma on the stage.

And I-I-I'm not sure how I feel about paying for that.

Suger: You know I'm on a time table, Fatty B.

What is this about?

sh*t went sideways the other night, man.

Your cousin put a body down.

Kormega?

Yep.

Five-0 rolled up right when that sh*t happened.

Snapped up Jalil.

You want me to do something about it?

No. Just keep an eye out.

Fo' sho.

Is that it?

The kid he put down was named Victor Chan.

"Chan" Chan?

As in Andy Chan?

Yeah.

Second cousin or something like that.

But it was blood.

What the hell is blood of Andy Chan doing at our hit?

I don't know, man.

That's what I was trying to figure out.

You don't know?

There's not much we can do now, is it?

I mean, the kid's dead.

Dead is dead.

"Dead is dead"?

We in business with Andy Chan.

We gonna have to holla at him and make sure that this is right.

Do you understand that?

You know he's gonna want Kormega.

Blood for blood.

[TV playing indistinctly]

I can't believe you're getting involved with this.

The kid just asked me to look over the files.

I wouldn't really call that getting involved, Hol.

Jamie, I've been sitting here watching you for two hours.

You're involved.

Well, it's a fascinating case.

Oh, so you're thinking about taking it on.

No, I'm looking over the files.

Please stop.

You're making this into something it isn't.

Answer me honestly.

Are you happy with the life we have?

What we've built here together?

Of course, honey. Of course I'm happy.

We don't have to worry about feeding that other person?

What other person?

The person you become when you're working on a case.

[sighs]

Hey.

There is nothing to worry about.

I'm just giving one of my former students some advice.

[chuckles]

Okay.

[laughs]

Jamie, stop it.

Yes.

I know you.

I know you.

Do you?

Yeah, I do.

Yeah.

Too well.

Good. Good.

[Terry groans]

Louise: Mom, can I watch TV?

Not tonight, babe.

Mnh-mnh.

Last thing I need is for her to see the news.

Thank God she likes to read, though.

[chuckling] She reads more books than I do.

Well, that's a good thing, right?

[gasps]

Pbht!

Don't tell me to turn my frown upside down.

Okay. What's wrong, though?

I miss my dad.

Yeah, I get it.

Hey, honey, can you go finish your homework, please?

You say that every time you want me to leave the room.

Just so you know, I always finish my homework as soon as I get home from school.

All righty, then.

I don't know what the big deal is.

You guys drink. Why can't Dad?

Because Daddy's an alcoholic in recovery.

Or at least used to be.

He says he's not an alcoholic.

Hypocrites.

[sighs]

Whoa.

Yeah.

[exhales sharply]

You're a good mom.

I just need Mike to get his sh*t together.

He's k*lling me.

[groans]

All right.

So, are you gonna tell me what it is you came here to tell me?

Walt got k*lled by a cop.

Yeah.

The .40 cal that they pulled out of his head didn't match Dustin Maker's or Alfie Rentman's g*ns.

The b*llet that k*lled Walt came from a SIG Sauer, department issued.

Well, it must have been friendly fire, right?

The GSR pattern confirmed that it was close range, 3 or 4 feet.

Jesus.

There's no way. Everybody loved Walt.

[sighs]

Oh, this is big.

Yeah.

How are you gonna keep this quiet?

Well, only you know right now.

So, yeah.

I got to keep this quiet until I figure something else out,

'cause if it gets out that... we're investigating our fellow policemen...

Well, Navarro's gonna ask me about it.

Yeah, well, he's your partner.

And he's our boy, so if you want to tell him, tell him, but only him.

You have to make it clear that it stops there.

He's gonna tell Molk.

Not Molk. He cannot tell.

No, all I have is a list of 30 cops that were within range of Walt getting k*lled.

[sighs] Molk is on that list.

He was right there.

[smooches]

[inhales deeply]

Carne asada... God's perfect food.

I make it every Sunday.

Marinate it with some beer, onions, garlic, a little limón, a little bit of orange juice.

Salt and pepper it on the grill... chow!

You can eat it with, uh, eggs, arroz y frijoles.

Mmm!

Did you eat breakfast?

No, my stomach's kind of off today.

It is? That's not good.

All of my kids have the stomach flu right now, and it's like "The Exorcist" 24 hours a day.

Are you nauseous, or is it more of, you know, like a crampy feeling?

You know what?

I'm not... I'm not gonna have this conversation right now.

Okay.

[scoffs]

What's up?

Hildy?

Walt was k*lled by a cop.

What?

I thought it was Alfie.

No, it wasn't. Terry told me last night.

He doesn't know who, though.

[sighs] Dios mío.

I'm telling you because you're my partner, all right?

But Terry needs to keep this tight, so you don't tell anyone, you understand me?

Nobody... even Molk.

What... what? Why can't I tell...

[cellphone chimes]

Jalil wants to talk.

[sighs]

[sighs sharply]

My client has decided to cooperate.

I k*lled him...

Victor Chan.

You know his name?

Were you two friends?

[scoffs] No.

Never met that guy before, but he's the one I sh*t.

Then I tossed the g*n in the bay.

Usually cops are more excited when suspects agree to cooperate, let alone confess.

Why did you change your story, Jalil?

[sighs]

My mama raised me to tell the truth.

[Navarro clears throat]

Excuse me.

Hey, Navarro.

Hey.

[sighs]

You okay?

Yeah. Just, uh, didn't get much sleep last night.

I said "hi" to you in the hallway, you didn't even respond.

You must be pretty tired.

Yeah.

Sorry, uh, what's up?

Uh...

Look, did, um... did Ballistics contact you about testing your g*n?

No. Why?

They called me.

Is there something going on that I need to know about?

[scoffs] I-I-I'm tired, Molky.

I mean, I was up all night.

I mean, you know, I got a lot stuff going on.

Hey, look, man.

I've been your partner for eight years.

You know something, and you're hiding.

What the hell's going on?

[sighs]

Forensics came back.

Walt was k*lled by a cop.

Happy?

Hey.

Hey.

So, what's up?

Well, um, I understand the working theory is that a cop k*lled Walt.

Who told you that?

Doesn't matter.

But, uh, Ballistics called me, and I guess I'm on some kind of list.

You were in the north tunnel, so you're on the list.

Can I see it?

The list?

[clears throat]

[sniffs]

Kaleb was cleared?

He was in the south tunnel.

No. N-No, he wasn't.

No, he was in the north tunnel, right by Walt.

I mean... [stammers] I was there.

Are... are you sure?

Yeah. No, look, I was looking in the other direction when I heard the sh*t.

I turned around to see Walt fall, and Kaleb was right there along with the rest of these guys.

I mean, i-i-if this is based upon geography, then Kaleb should be on the list.

Hey, Wesley.

This is English, from Homicide.

Uh, I have another star for you to run against that b*llet.

Yeah, Kaleb Peat.

Yep.

All right, thanks, man.

[receiver clicks]

[soft music playing]

[indistinct talking]

Making the ultimate sacrifice, we give thanks.

We honor his service.

And we say "God bless."

[cellphone vibrating]

The loss of Walt leaves a tear in the fabric of our brotherhood, which is now our job to heal.

[knock on door]

I told him to get lost.

You need me to call for a warrant?

No. There's no time.

Clear.

Terry.

Where's his su1c1de note?

Crazy sh*t.

Bad week. [sighs]

Bag his g*n.

I got it.