Homicide: Life on the Street (1993–1999): Season 4, Episode 19 - Map of the Heart - full transcript

The body of a 71-year-old world class swimmer is found in a pool where the ME says he was for 24 to 36 hours. A man claiming to be his biological son asks the detectives to test the ...

- I'm his trainer, not his doctor.
- You found him at what time?

An hour ago, ten o'clock. I
come down to check his times.

- You last saw him alive when?
- 6:30 yesterday morning.

You said he was
a master swimmer?

Mr Clifford was good. In his age
class, maybe third, fourth best.

- Edward Clifford was world-class.
- What did he swim?

- 100 freestyle, 100 back.
- I know those lanes.

- You're a swimmer.
- Mm-hm.

I got something
you'd appreciate.

He's been hitting 1:10s
consistently in the free.

- How old did you say he was?
- 71.



- Did you notify his family?
- He has no family.

Edward Clifford was
married to the water.

Hey! I'm ready to go fishing.

Yeah. All right, check the top
of this guy's head for a blowhole.

I think our floater
here was part dolphin.

Come on, with your left!

Relax inside will make
yourself sheer hot.

Come on! Brodie!

That's right. Keep your hands
up. Come on. Jab, jab, keep it up.

Keep your hands up. Come on,
come on! You gotta stay with it.

Exercise is for someone
with a bad self-image.

- It's all hand-eye coordination.
- That's easy for you to say.

Look at my hands.
Look at my eyes.

Now, watch me. Now, the jab.



It's from your shoulder.
You shoot it out, all right?

It's all about getting a rhythm goin'.
When you punch, twist your hand.

- The twist gives you more torque.
- Torque?

Yeah, come on. Even John -
The Marauder - Munch knows this.

You have a peculiar way of
backhanding someone a compliment.

- Is it me or was that a compliment?
- I truly respect you.

Brodie... Brodie!

I need you up on Mount
Washington. Here's the address.

Come on, if you don't
learn now, you won't ever.

- She...
- What's he not goin' to learn?

Kellerman has taken
on Brodie as a protégé.

In a couple of weeks,
he meets Tyson.

I'm teaching "The Bruiser" here the
subtle art of throwing a simple punch.

Under my tutelage, even the
sarge could learn in a second.

- Even the sarge?
- You're on a roll, Kellerman.

- I don't know how to throw a punch?
- I could show you how to throw it better.

- Hit this?
- Yeah.

Right, sarge. You're just
throwing it with your arm.

Right? You gotta
throw your hip into it.

It's got to come from
the legs, the power.

You hit the bag, it goes "bip".

I hit the bag..."Boom! Boom!"

You hear the
difference. "Bip." "Boom!"

A week and I'll have
you hitting like a champ.

Not a bip in the bunch.

Edward Clifford.
Male. Born 77.24.

- He's a divorce attorney.
- A wealthy divorce attorney.

Involved in big divorces
of the seven-figure variety.

In between international
swimming competitions.

Notorious for dropping his Speedos
for his soon-to-be-ex-wife clients.

Look at that body. He has the
muscle tone of a man half his age.

Hmm.

I estimate that Mr Clifford was dead
in the water a day, a day and a half.

- Hmm.
- What's this contusion here?

After a certain age,
contusions come easy.

I'll lean against a wall
and I'll turn black-and-blue.

But you said this man
was in great shape.

- Are you gonna run a toxicology?
- Is that what you recommend?

Doctor!

Imagine Scheiner in a swimsuit.

I heard that.

You'll always be a beautiful
swimmer to me, Dr Scheiner.

Because I do my bit for the
planet, by living close to the office,

who does everyone call when
they need something? Me!

Last week, it was my
typewriter, this week, my VCR.

- No one heard of a requisition?
- No.

Why didn't I think of that? I could
have filled out a form during lunch

and dropped it in the departmental mail,
received a received notice next month,

and about July,
it would show up?

If Brodie maintained his equipment,
you wouldn't have to ransack my cupboard.

Cambridge Works. That's
high-end on your salary, huh?

Bells-and-whistles.
It's got some miles on it.

I got deal... From Kellerman.

Oh, yeah, I bet he's from dough.

If he is, he ain't saying, which
means he probably is. Where's this go?

- In "The Box".
- In "The Box".

I should rent this
to the Department.

Just sign it. You did
the deed. Just sign it.

I know what you're tryin' to
do to me. Just sign it, all right!

I've got a reputation, OK, see?

You know what it is?
You don't know what it is...

Don't let me go
there. You see this?

See how my knuckles
are straight across here?

You know how much hitting power
I've got? I mean, I've got torque.

I got mounds of torque.

I got some of this too.

You did the deed, now
you gotta pay the price.

Just sign the
paper. You'll feel...

Hey, Brodie, playin'
detective again?

- Which mass murderer this time?
- He signed on the dotted line.

Hate to disappoint you,
but there is no dotted line.

- I know. He still signed.
- Good work.

See what you're doin' to me?
I could lose my job over this.

Hey, Mike.

- Nice lunch today, guys?
- Er... Did we have lunch?

Did we? I don't remember.

Neither of you recall
a chicken burrito?

- What?
- Yeah.

A Tupperware container
in a blue plastic bag.

- Left in the refrigerator?
- Cough it up.

- What?
- Victimised by the lunch bandit.

Ha ha..."The lunch bandit"?

This started happenin'
two years ago.

- It's still an open case.
- I've always suspected Lewis.

Bayliss, you've a visitor.

- OK.
- Excuse me.

This is some kind
of an initiation?

Screw the new guy? I'm the
low man on the totem pole.

The bandit has purloined from everyone,
the Lieutenant down to Maintenance.

- Nothin' personal.
- He's nailed me three times this week.

It's nothing personal.

This guy's nosin'
around my things.

- Yeah, can I help?
- I'm Richard Laumer.

A man was found dead, floating
in his swimming pool this morning.

One Edward Clifford.

- I haven't even turned in my report.
- I believe he was my father.

- I was told he didn't have a family.
- Doesn't mean he couldn't be a father.

- It doesn't, no.
- Or that he wasn't murdered.

- What makes you think he was?
- I told him I would kill him.

Sit down.

You told him you
were going to kill him?

But I didn't kill him. But I
didn't kill him. I didn't kill him.

How do you know he was murdered?
We don't even have a confirmation.

He could've died
from a heart attack.

- The autopsy will tell you different.
- In what way?

To have a heart attack,
you have to have a heart.

I believe Edward Clifford
was my biological father.

Now that he's dead, I
need to know the truth.

I need a DNA fingerprint
on Edward Clifford.

It's to be matched, or not, with
the contents of this envelope.

My own. There's a lab, Baltimore RH
Typing, 98% accuracy in three days.

But if you have the clout to push
the pedal to the metal, its 24 hours.

This doesn't fall within the
scope of our investigation.

It will when you get the
autopsy results and I've also...

included a home video.
Might bring you a laugh.

It's from my real father,
the man who raised me.

He died almost
a year to the day.

Where exactly is
it that you work?

- You're a cartographer.
- I was fascinated with maps as a kid.

- Why is there just a phone number?
- I'm out in the field, here, overseas,

95% of the time,
doing my surveys.

Where's home?

Any place there's clean sheets, a decent
hamburger, a waitress with nice gams.

So... if it's determined that this
Edward Clifford was murdered...

- Odds are it will.
- So who would want to kill him?

The man who raised me
as his son. My legal father.

The man that you
say died a year ago...

Almost to the day.
Watch the tape.

- I have to get back to work.
- So this waitress with the nice...

- Gams.
- Gams.

- Where will she serve you this burger?
- Could be a hundred places.

This is a great town for leg.

Decent burger's another story. I'll
find you. I don't need a map for that.

- Megan.
- Hey, Kellerman.

- What's in the bag?
- What is this, a test?

- It's a lemon yoghurt and an orange.
- Lunch?

- Er, Mike, you want it, you can have it.
- No.

Are you gonna put
that in the fridge?

- No, I'm gonna put it into my desk.
- Not the fridge?

Nah, not a chance.

Why?

- You don't know, do you?
- About the lunch bandit.

Ah, so you do know.

How come no one's done anything?

In order for us to do anything, the
thief has to be caught, but no luck.

- Surveillance of the fridge? Interviews?
- Yep.

- And nothing?
- Nothing.

I'm gonna find this guy, and when
I do, I'm gonna break his hands.

You know something, I believe you,
I see the fire in your eyes. Good luck.

But just a thought. What makes
you think that the lunch bandit's a guy?

Look at the picture I get on Munch's
machine. It's like taking off blinders.

Pop that one in.

"Last will and testament
of Maurice Laumer."

'My name is Maurice Laumer.

'I leave this testament
to my son, Richard.'

'I have cause to be
effected upon my death

'the creation of a trust,
which I have located off shore

'in a sovereign nation,
which shall remain unnamed.

'This trust will remain frozen
for a period of one year,

'after which all assets will become
the property of a sole beneficiary.

'Edward J Clifford...

'... of Mount Washington, City
of Baltimore, State of Maryland.

'Ln the event that Mr
Clifford shall predecease

'the one-year
anniversary of my death,

'then all assets will be distributed
in its entirety to a second beneficiary.

'My son, Richard.'

Give me the tape.

Judy! Call the ME Lab.
Tell them we need Scheiner.

If they have to roust them out of his
home, tell him we're bringing coffee.

- No answer on Laumer's number.
- He finally found his burger.

Judy. Check on a Maurice
Laumer. L-A-U-M-E-R.

- Deceased in the last year.
- We are looking for Richard Laumer.

This is the number he gave us. Check
the phone directory. Do not lose that!

OK.

- A chicken burrito?
- Yeah.

Yesterday, crab cakes from Tame St.
Day before that, pasta from Margaret's.

You eat very well,
Kellerman. Almost too well.

Gee.

I'm suspicious of any
detective who eats so well.

I find it impossible to believe in a squad
room full of the very best detectives,

nobody's nailed this guy.

I put you in charge. You
find who the culprit is,

and I'll hold a public execution
in front of headquarters.

- I'm gonna rip his heart out.
- Start thinkin' like the bandit.

Captain.

- Hello.
- Shut the door, Al.

I'm tryin' to
locate this person.

Maybe the Captain
misdirected you.

The last time I looked, this was a
Homicide unit, not Missing Persons.

I haven't had my happy
pill today, Al. So go slow.

National Security
Agency. Felicity Fenwick.

- Is this some kind of joke?
- Miss Fenwick's no joke.

A-ha!

- You are for real.
- I need to find this man.

We have Edward
Clifford dead this morning,

we have a tape
from Maurice Laumer

sayin' he's givin' his money
to this Edward Clifford.

Clifford dies within a year,
the money goes to Richard.

Who says that both
men are his father.

Where is Scheiner? He was
gonna be here ten minutes ago.

- He's on his way.
- How long can that drive take?

It's not the drive. It's for him
to get from his bed to the car.

Takes him 20 minutes
just to pull his pants on.

OK.

OK, this is our guy. I need
a DNA on Edward Clifford

to see if it matches up
with what is in this envelope.

So Richard Laumer
shows us a video tape,

which shows that he had
every motive in the world

to kill this Clifford character.

- Too obvious?
- Why help us connect the dots?

Whatever happened
to bankers' hours?

Thanks.

- Detective Munch, it's Brodie.
- How did you know it's me?

Oh, I have each detectives'
shoes catalogued.

- I'm busy.
- Yeah, I know.

You've got a bad
terminal on your VCR.

- You're the expert. Do something with it.
- Sure, I can fix it.

I can fix it, but there's
something else.

Repair the whole shebang,
and we'll discuss the cost later.

It's the serial number plate on the
inside back panel of your machine.

This can wait. I need peace and
quiet to facilitate this bodily function.

All the numbers are scratched
out, your VCR could be hot.

A little sticker on
the bottom says it's...

"Property of Arson".

You could've waited to
give me this information.

Brodie. Are you there?

Brodie, do me a favour.

Brodie!

- He's loaded with cancer?
- Prostate.

Typical progression to
the bone, ribs, hips, pelvis.

- Is this what killed him?
- No, a pulmonary embolism.

- A pulmonary embolism. Heart attack?
- So you're learning. I'm amazed!

Weren't we thinkin' that
when we pulled him out?

By all appearances, yeah, except
for the contusions on his hips.

We found needle marks.

Did you run a toxicology?

Did I say I would?

- Clear presence of steroids.
- He was shooting steroids?

That's how he was
swimming those 1:10 frees.

Did the steroid injections
cause the heart attack?

They would make his
prostate cancer run wild,

which in turn, could
cause a heart attack.

He knows he has cancer, and
he's shootin' steroids anyway.

- Suicidal?
- If he knows he has cancer.

- If he doesn't?
- Bad karma.

Hang on. The needle marks are
on his shoulders and his lower spine.

I understand how he
shot himself in the hip,

but given his age and build, he
doesn't have the flexibility for that.

- Someone else was shootin'.
- If they know he has cancer...

Then we have a
hell of a cute murder.

Gentlemen, a homicide problem.

- You sure Kellerman's coming back?
- He said he was runnin' down a lead.

- Some witness.
- He's got to check back, right?

He said he'd be back.

What do you make of
this confab in "The Box"?

Gee says it's an
internal matter.

- Did he say what?
- No.

He should. You're a sergeant.
This is an issue of respect.

Did you notice how hostile
Gaffney was to me this morning?

I say hello. He passes
me by like I'm not here.

- Do you think that was intentional?
- Can you let me concentrate here?

I dunno why I bought
that damn VCR!

I never should've
bought that damn VCR.

Call the Commissioner?
What is it, it's a threat?

Go ahead.

Tim.

Gee, we are right in the middle of an
autopsy and they yank us down here.

I'm asking you to cooperate
with Miss Fenwick, that's all.

Cooperate?

Cooperate?

We're investigating a
possible homicide here.

Please, Tim, sit down.

Tim. You know something?

I am Detective Bayliss to you,
Mrs... whatever your name is.

Bayliss, where is
Richard Laumer?

- I don't know.
- Did he say where he might go?

Yeah, he said he was gonna get a
hamburger that had some legs on it.

- Do not be a smart-ass!
- That's what he said!

What do you take
him to mean by this?

I think that he means that he had a
kind of a healthy attitude about life.

- Maybe he was talking in code to us.
- Yeah. Maybe talking... in secret stuff.

Laumer has nothing to
do with your investigation.

- Then why did he walk in here?
- He made a mistake.

How? He meant to turn north but
he turned south? He's a map-maker.

- He told you this?
- He isn't?

- Yes, he is.
- He wasn't supposed to tell us.

Come on, Gee. What is this?

We have been ordered to assist
Miss Fenwick in finding Richard Laumer.

That's all you're gonna say?

Yes.

I'm here because Richard
Laumer is my friend.

That makes him a bit
more than a map-maker.

He is in no way connected to
the death of Edward Clifford.

- Oh...
- In what way isn't he?

She's from the National Security
Agency. Take her word for it.

Right...

Then why are we
wastin' our time?

Where the hell are you going?

Home. To sleep.

Since when do we make
deals, Gee? I mean...

Who is she to come down here
onto our turf and to make demands?

Al, this is insubordination.

God bless, huh?

Richard Laumer is my
friend. I have to know he's OK.

You or your honchos at Fort Meade?
Don't touch that door. That's my door.

Now you've pissed me off. You
and I are never gonna be friends.

Richard Laumer is a dependable person.
For him to leave in the middle of work...

- It's not like him.
- Right.

Listen.

Why didn't he tell you where he was
goin'? That's the least a friend could do.

- Tell you where he's goin'.
- I'm aware of the tape he gave you.

- Find it interesting?
- He left a number.

But the phone number
doesn't lead to Richard Laumer.

That's why you're
standin' with me right now.

You give me what I
need, I'll give you Laumer.

For once, I agree with my
partner. We make no trades.

You'll get the information
to clear up your investigation.

That's as far as it will
go, Detective Pembleton.

Did I hear a threat just now?

What I said and what you
think I said is our perceptions.

I have no idea what you
think you might have heard.

Are you implying something now?

- I don't like to be threatened.
- I know better than to threaten you.

- What could happen if I don't play ball?
- Why wouldn't you want to?

So you are threatening me? What
would be the consequences to me?

- Is there a menu that you select from?
- I work in information-gathering.

It's not the information,
it's what you do with it.

What I am saying is, in the
best interests of everyone,

that we foster a
respectful cooperation.

Or else what? Take me to the back
alleys and give me a bamboo manicure?

I know Richard will get in touch with
you. Just tell him I want him to be OK.

- Nothing's gonna happen.
- You don't think so?

Not right away. She
needs him. He needs us.

Hey.

If something does
happen to me...

I want you to go
right after their asses.

Is this before or after I buy
the house a second round?

Come on.

We just got off
on the wrong foot.

I couldn't sleep last night,
knowing I'd upset your detectives.

In the heat of the moment, a lot of
things get said that no one means.

- Where were having your lunch?
- I didn't have plans.

- You have to try our crab cakes.
- I never acquired the taste.

I'm from Chicago.

Red meat.

And potatoes. Nothing
like a good steak.

Helps order the
short-term memory.

So, how about I take
you up to the Polo Grill?

- We can have crab cakes and steak.
- How gallant of you. Yes, I will.

- Megan.
- Morning, Al.

Megan, you came out of the
Naval Academy, didn't you?

- Yeah, class of '83. Why?
- You worked intelligence too?

Four years.

Did you have any overlap with
our illustrious intelligence agencies,

like the CIA, the NSA?

Peripheral, trying to make an overseas
connection to some local coke dealers.

I want you to make the reacquaintance
with whoever you talked to.

I want to find out everything
about this... Felicity Fenwick.

Distinctive name. Why?

I want to find out who she is answerin'
to, who's watching the watchers.

OK, I'll make the calls.

How are you coming along fixin' my
VCR? What's it gonna set me back?

- Nothin'.
- What do you mean?

It ain't gonna cost you
cos I don't got your VCR.

- Two guys came in here and took it.
- What two guys?

- You gave them my property?
- These guys were big.

Official-looking. They said
they were confiscating it.

- They used the word "confiscating"?
- Uh-huh.

I'm a dead man. This
is great. Thanks, Brodie!

- You sold me a hot VCR.
- What?

There are guys from
Internal Affairs sniffin' around.

Listen to me, that
VCR is not hot.

It was lent to Arson
from Evidence Control.

The squad got more equipment, we
had to pass it on. I volunteered to do it.

So you volunteered
it to me for two bills?

- It's worth four times that much.
- Not if I get jammed for it.

Watchin' these fish almost
convinces me there is a god.

Laumer's gonna be here, huh?

The number he left checks
out for a payphone here.

- We're being watched.
- Wow!

We humans, we could never come
up with the colours of these fish.

Like...

Like this ray here. This ray,
this ray could be our ancestor.

I don't know where I'm from,
but I'm not from those things.

We're all from the sea. The percentage
of salt in us is the same as the oceans.

- Yeah.
- God is greater than we can imagine.

We can't imagine God,
therefore God exists.

- What?
- Thomas Aquinas.

Oh, yeah, another one of
your "Hall Of Famous Jesuits".

No, he was a Dominican. The same
people who brought us the Inquisition.

- That tail looks familiar to me.
- They're viviparous. Most rays are.

They give birth to live
young, like mammals.

Some even nurse off the
uterine secretions of their mothers.

And when they grow up, they
become simple map-makers?

If they're unlucky.

'Yes, right.'

No, he knows me.

I worked with him eight
years ago. Megan Russert.

Yeah, R-U-S-S-E-R-T. Right.

No, I'm a Homicide detective
with the Baltimore City PD.

No, that's all right. Oh, no,
I understand, believe me.

No, I do, you have to
establish I'm bona fide.

That unit in your agency doesn't
exist under that name anymore?

So Edward Clifford was murdered.

There's no determination
yet, but the ME

is very curious about
how it all adds up.

Your friend from the Agency thinks
very highly of your map-making skills.

I have a lot of friends.
Which one is this?

Felicity... Fenwick...

I would have a friend
with a name like that?

Er... No, I don't know why I was
transferred over to you, I really don't.

The woman I was talking to...
My name is Megan Russert.

Russert. R-U-S-S-E-R-T.

Megan.

Three years ago, after my mother
dies, Edward Clifford contacts me.

He says he has sensitive
information on my father.

- I agree to meet.
- Were you working for the NSA?

Yes.

So I meet with Clifford. He tells me
of his past relationship with my mother.

He tells me he wants me
to have a DNA test done.

He says he knows the results
already, but this is for my benefit.

I turn him down flat.

This guy calls you up, you
meet him, says he's your father.

Hey, Maurice Laumer
is my real father.

I told Clifford if word of this ever
reached my father, I would kill him.

Did you ever tell your
father about meeting Clifford?

I never told him of it, no.

Of course he knew, or he
wouldn't have made the tape.

So if it's determined that Edward Clifford
was murdered, I'm your only suspect.

Yep.

Do you have to take me in now?

We should but frankly, I feel nauseated
by this friend of yours from the Agency.

This woman, I'm telling you, is
no friend. I've never heard of her.

See, I wanted my friend to check
out a name for me. Felicity Fenwick.

No, I don't know her. I'm just tryin'
to find out if a person by this name

works for your agency.

Ru... Russert. R-U-S-S... Yeah.

Why aren't your Agency friends
all over you right here now?

If they grabbed me up, they would
know I would be an unhappy boy.

Then they'd have to baby-sit my ass
24 hours a day for the rest of my life.

Or theirs. They get nervous
about cranky employees.

Why nervous? Cold war is
over. The world's changed.

Is that right? Did a little birdie
come up and tell you that?

The war ain't over.
It's only half time.

- I got one more favour I wanna ask.
- We are doing you a favour.

- By not hauling your ass in right now.
- Check on Edward Clifford's will.

I'd be in your debt. OK.

A minute.

Are these half-time strategies anything
at all to do with your map-making?

You know what?

I found the waitress, but not
the burger. You know any place?

Yeah... It's called
The Waterfront.

Meet you there later, all right?

- You did what?
- I rigged my lunch.

What?

I rigged my lunch.

You can't blow someone
up over a sandwich.

It's ribs from Hecky's,
totally irresistible.

Gee put me in charge. He said
the thief should be executed.

Why rig it? The ribs
alone will do him in.

I'm not gonna hurt this guy, but he
will be wearing a lot of purple dye.

I talked to a couple of guys in
Robbery and they hooked me up

with one of the poppers the
banks use as a surprise for hold-ups.

So you know this and I
know this. It's our secret.

- OK.
- Munch!

I tried but I can't get my
hands on that VCR of yours.

Ssh! Come here!

- Go to Evidence Control. Talk to them.
- They don't have it.

- Who does?
- I asked around. Nobody knows.

If this gets to Internal, I've
got a secret for them too.

- You'd give me up?
- On a platter, an apple in your mouth!

- This stays here with us.
- What?

- About my VCR.
- What about the VCR?

This conversation
never happened.

- About the VCR?
- There is no VCR.

Because we never
talked about a VCR.

- We didn't?
- No.

We're not here. Even if we
were, we didn't discuss anything.

- I'm not here?
- Right.

- You're not talkin' to me?
- Right.

- OK.
- Are you OK with this?

Yeah, sure. I mean,
reality is just a guess for me.

Most of the time. I think.

What judge should I bother
about Edward Clifford's will?

If I were you, Aandahl.
She's always liked you.

There's a lot to like.

Tim. Got a guy in here just
confessed to Edward Clifford's murder.

- What?
- Some guy named Buster Simmons.

What are you doing here?

- I told that woman detective everything.
- Why don't you give us a recap?

- You killed Edward Clifford?
- Yes.

Why?

I wrote it all down.

We interviewed you yesterday. Why
are you coming forward with this today?

I want you to tell me.

You knew about the steroids?

I shot him up with ten CCs
every other week at the start.

- When was this?
- When I started, a year ago.

Then he'd swim and his lap
times would start to fluctuate.

So he has me increase
the dose. 15ccs every week.

- Did you know he had the cancer?
- Or what the steroids do to cancer?

Prostate cancer on steroids is
like putting tomatoes on Miracle-Gro.

You have the bud of a malignancy
and want a blue ribbon at the state fair,

juice yourself up on steroids.

So the case is open and
now the case is closed.

I asked Russert to make a
few calls down to DC for me.

An hour later, Buster Simmons walks
in and wants to make a confession.

- A little too convenient, Gee.
- Come on, Frank, it's a new age.

The world's becoming
a perfect place.

- Kellerman.
- Hey, sarge.

- You have no conscience.
- Really?

It's bad enough you
pilfer department property,

and then to sell it to an
unsuspecting detective?

- Munch is not innocent.
- Don't do this. You're from money!

What? Where did
you come up with that?

Everyone knows
your family is loaded.

Really? Somebody
better clue my dad in.

He's down at Majestic Distillery,
working double shifts, packing bottles.

You mean, you don't
come from money?

I'd be doing all this if I did?

Well...

- Hey, sarge.
- Hey, Munch.

The Arson unit called. They wanted
to thank you for returning their VCR.

No problem.

Hey... You know, Kellerman's
lunch is still in here. Where is he?

Brodie, don't you
work in Homicide?

- I don't?
- How come you repaired Arson's VCR?

- A VCR?
- The one you were fixing yesterday.

If this conversation is about
a VCR, we ain't havin' it.

We're not?

And if we're not havin' this
conversation, there's no VCR.

Right.

And somehow, you're still out
200 bucks to Kellerman on it.

- You did good, Brodie.
- I did? About what?

It's OK now. You did good.

I have no idea what
you're talkin' about.

Because what you're not talking
about is a VCR which doesn't exist.

You're not here having this
conversation with me, right?

We're not having a
conversation about a VCR.

You want to hear
something frightening?

You and I are actually starting
to understand each other.

- If Kellerman doesn't want his lunch...
- No!

Would you like some blanc?
We have some nice blanc?

So this is it? This is what
you've recommended?

- Hey.
- I own part of the joint myself.

- I must be in the right place.
- Frank, why don't you lock that up?

Could I? Could I have
a bourbon, please?

Mmm, bourbon. I thought
you'd want a gin martini.

Isn't that what DC Langley-Fort
Meade guys always have to drink?

My father taught me never to
drink any liquor you can see through.

Which father's that?

DNA results. Very quick.

- I guess you guys do have clout.
- Yeah, we got clout.

- We ain't got no bourbon.
- You got plenty of bourbon.

Er... The Maker's Mark.
I'll take one of those.

No, I don't see any bourbon.

Who's Buster Simmons?

Who?

You NSA boys, you should
just make it look more real.

Maybe waited a week. Maybe have
someone phone in a tip on old Buster.

- I don't know what you're talking about.
- You don't know?

No.

You should have gotten the DNA
yourselves. Why did you come to us?

You have you resources. You
could have just slipped under the door,

gotten the blood sample
from Edward Clifford's body

then just slipped
back off into the night.

This was personal.

For personal matters,
you operate within the law?

- I'm a citizen.
- No, no, no.

You're a spy. You're a ghost.
You're a six o'clock man.

- I draw maps.
- You wanted Edward Clifford dead.

I draw maps... for the future.

I project five, ten, twenty years of
how the world will be configured.

- All the countries shift...
- Let me let you in.

Your buddy, Buster Simmons,
he took the hit for you.

Three to five for negligent
homicide so when you collect on this,

make sure you cut
old Buster in, OK?

Based upon economic
and political conditions.

The break-up of the Soviet
Union. I drew that map 15 years ago.

- I was on the money.
- Tim, let me have another...

- Maker's Mark, Frank?
- Yeah.

- I like that.
- I thought you didn't have bourbon.

You came to us because
you were plagued with guilt.

Because you hired
Buster to kill Clifford.

- Coward that you are, you wimped out.
- But you were in over your head.

You played games,
danced us all over the floor.

- You knew we could never touch you.
- Protected.

Cos God knows, your maps are vital
to the national security of this country.

- I don't know any Buster Simmons.
- But you could draw a map of him.

Here we go.

Edward Clifford
is taking steroids.

Edward Clifford knows that
he has cancer but doesn't know

what his steroids are
going to do to his cancer.

But you and Buster
know, don't you?

I come to you with a personal
matter I need resolving...

Did you kill Edward
Clifford for revenge,

or for the trust fund that
Maurice Laumer set up?

Which is it?

Whatever you have
with liquor in it, I'll take it.

Maurice Laumer knew Edward Clifford,
that's why he left the tape for you.

I never told him of my meeting with
Clifford, out of respect for my mother.

Hmm. See, Clifford
went and saw Maurice,

and spilled the beans.

- About his affair with your mother.
- I need a drink.

- So Maurice, the good old guy...
- May I please have a drink?

Makes out his last
will and testament,

and he has you avenge
the what, jealous hatred

he feels for Edward Clifford and destroy
the bastard son all at the same time!

So what's it gonna be?

A simple murder, or patricide?

Gotta go.

You went to a lot of trouble
to get that information.

I know everything I need to.

You knew that before
you killed Edward Clifford.

Gentlemen... I got your drinks.

You could never buy me a
drink, even if drinks were free.

It's a beautiful thing, isn't it,
gettin' away with murder? Hey!

Don't you want to know if
you killed your real father?

I got a trust fund
coming from somewhere.

I'm a rich man.

- Think we should open this?
- I don't know.

No. No...

- Not curious?
- The guy walked on murder charges.

Now I'm supposed
to care about him?

♪ ... But all I can do

♪ Is hand it to you

♪ And your latest trick... ♪