The Wire (2002–2008): Season 1, Episode 13 - Sentencing - full transcript

The detail has enough information to arrest Avon and many of his people, but, with Wallace dead, they are unable to bring a charge against Stringer, who is left on the street. However, ...

Hey, now.

We called earlier. They said you were up

but by the time we get here, you back asleep.

- Been there long?
- Nah.

20 minutes.

You know, we didn't want to, uh,
exactly disturb you.

I'm bored, is all.

Yeah, but still.

So what you got for me?



Little Man. For sure.

That's good. Are you able to write?

OK. Number two.

I can make Little Man.

Cos he's, the front
trying to snatch the cash off the dashboard.

But the other one, he's outside in the dark.

- So...
- So, you know, it's OK. It's OK.


Is there anyone here that you do recognize?

Sure. Wee-Bey.

All right.

Let me tell you
where we're coming from with the shooters.

We tracked their escape route.
Landsman came up with their hoodies.

Now, DNA matched human hair
from one of the hoodies to Wee-Bey.

Freamon tracked a call from the pay phone
near the scene to Stringer Bell's pager.

The caller was using Bey's beeper code.

Crime lab, they lift a print off a soda can

near that phone and that matches Little Man.

You know, so, I'm saying, uh...

OK, hear me out.

There's a downside here.

We don't have the guns,
no prints from the scene, no witnesses.

Worse, we're going to be dealing
with a Baltimore jury.

A good man is hard to find in this town.

12 of them together, especially.

An ID of both your shooters

will play a whole lot easier come trial.

You know...

sometimes niggers just gotta play hard.

If you walk through the garden

You'd better watch your back

Well, I beg your pardon

Walk the straight and narrow track

If you walk with Jesus

He'll save your soul

You gotta keep the devil

Down in the hole

All the angels sing

About Jesus' mighty sword

And they shield you with their wings

Keep you close to the Lord

Don't pay heed to temptation

For his hands are so cold

You gotta keep the devil

Way down in the hole

Way down in the hole

Way down in the hole

Way down in the hole

Way down in the hole

We got everyone on our list except CCO.

We hit his mama's house and she says that
he went up to Wabash for some court date.

Get on the computer and see if the Sheriff's
deputies can snatch him up in a courtroom.


No, we got Ronnie Mo. I'm looking at him
go in the jail van right now.

All right.

- Fished our limit. Let's go home.
- Sir.

- Huh?
- "Let's go home, sir."

You're looking at a
soon-to-be-made sergeant.

What I'm saying is, when we're around troops,
get used to showing respect.

So, "Let's go home, sir." All right?

What's the count?

So far we've picked up 12.
That leaves seven on the wing.

Anything worthwhile?

Some phone numbers that match,
scraps of nicknames.

We need something. They'll shut us down
unless we come up with something fresh.

The wires are dead.
The bug in the club is useless.

They're moving out.

- To where?
- No clue.

But they're going to have to set up again.

Either Barksdale moves to reset
his distribution or he gives up.

- If not Avon, then Stringer.
- Why not Avon?

With no priors, he's out
two hours after the bail review.

What we put on Barksdale
barely makes him break stride.

So we get a hint of where they're setting up.

We ask for a new bug,

maybe even a wire if we get onto a phone.

Not while the deputy breathes air.

We'll be reassigned
before you finish your affidavit.

How about the feds?

You think the deputy'll
let you take this federal?

Why does the deputy need to know?

McNulty, you are a piece of work.




No shit.

No fucking shit.

It's Rhonda Pearlman.

She just got a call from a public defender
in North Jersey

who claims to represent D'Angelo Barksdale.

Meet me in Homicide.
Bring a tape recorder.

No drug lawyers? No Levy?

- Case got some legs on her, don't she?
- Don't she?

Quarter of a million dollars bail.
You believe that shit?

It hurts to show that kind of money.

Where Levy at? He ain't at the club, is he?

Club's out. We can't talk there no more.

- Come on, man, let's get out of here.
- What's up, baby?

So, this is it?

Before you go anyplace, before you talk
anyplace, we got to think this through.

We're up to almost 20 arrests at last count.

And if you look at the probable cause,
they read like yours -

information from a confidential source.

This seems too much for one snitch.

I agree. My gut tells me a wire.

Either a phone or two,
or maybe something in a room somewhere.

You talk to your nephew on the phone?

Of course not. No phones. When we talk,
it's face-to-face, in the back of the club.

- Fuck.
- It's good you moved out.

I don't know. I mean, if they got a mic in there,
they got you and me saying all kinds of shit.

That reminds me.
He said he'd be in tonight.

- Thing is, they take you and leave me?
- That's what's fucking me up too, man.

We'll know as soon as
I start pressing for discovery.

What about the people they locked up?

- We got to pull them.
- That's showing a lot of money.

If we don't,
we run the risk of making them enemies.

Speaking of which,
where are you with your nephew?

Is he going to see the light?

Let me tell you something, man.
He's family, all right? He not going to buck.

A day or two in the bullpen, he's gonna be
crying, waiting for bail like the rest of them.

All right.

Let's run the money through the families,
that'll hide it some.

- And don't use the same bondsman.
- All right.

Look, gentlemen. I want you to start thinking
about who was charged

and what kind of time they can do.

One way to limit your exposure
is what's called a structured plea.

That means you have to deliver your people,
all of them, down to a man.

I saw your girl today, for the idents.

How's she doing?

OK, I guess. She's out of the ICU.

Moving slow, but moving, you know?

Jimmy, you ain't been to see her?

No. I couldn't go in.

This ain't about you, right?

When I get back from Jersey, I will.

I will.

You know, Cole and me,
we showed her the spreads.

Picked out Little Man, no problem. Wouldn't
go for Wee-Bey. So I tried the fat finger.

Damn near begging her to make this play
easier in court. You know what she said?

"Sometimes niggers gotta play hard."

- Real police.
- Oh, yeah.

- What the fuck did you do to her?
- I don't know.

You two in the same car
gonna make for a long-ass drive to Jersey.


- Is this mahogany?
- This isn't mahogany, for Christ's sake.

"Is this mahogany?"

Damn, man, it's's too still in here.

Slow down!

You know what? We can...

This place will be fine.

All we really got to do is
put a little safe in here someplace

and let them know the count
comes here from now on. Period.

- Damn, boy. When y'all change up, y'all...
- Shh.

Y'all that paranoid?
You ain't even been up in there before.

I'm telling you, this shit is different.

We are not going to talk about
nothing indoors. It's a new day.

We got to get back on our feet.

The longer we hold off, the harder
it's going to be to maintain them towers.

You want to get it back up,
lean to me and String.

- I ain't down yet.
- You need to step back.

You can't take a second chance here.
You know what I'm saying?

Until you fixed, sis going to handle that
money, I'm going to handle the products.

- We here for you.
- All right.

But you tell Roberto,
he got to make it a serious smoker.

I want them motherfucking fiends in
the projects dropping like flies. You feel me?

You send out the word,
let them know we ain't dead yet.

- What about my nephew?
- Don't fret.

Give me a chance to get with Roberto,
and I'll get up to D.

Do what needs doing.

Tell him I'm sorry
for putting him out there like that

and that I'm going to make it up to him.

You going to make it up.

Most def.

I want to make it clear that the
cooperation is contingent on a commitment

that my client finds acceptable.

Failing that,
everything said in here stays in here.

Damn straight.

A proffer in Maryland
plays much the same in Jersey.

I agree that with regard to matters involving
drug trafficking, your client has been helpful.

He's indicated a willingness to testify
that he was a lieutenant

in Avon Barksdale's drug organization,

sold large quantities of drugs for his uncle.

Delivered money, attended meetings,

and, on one occasion, made a trip
to New York on the behest of his uncle.

All of which corroborates
much of what we already know.

What else is there?

The murders.

Man, why do you keep on that?

I already told you, I don't know nothing about
that witness being killed.

Which witness?

Remember her?


- They did her?
- About the same time they did the boy.

All them bodies.

- They covering up, man.
- That's what we think.

- No loose ends.
- I can understand the guard.

She got paid, so she had to go.

Orlando, he knew too much,
got to snitching, so he had to go.

But then there's the kid...


'I need to go past Argyle Street
tonight. Check in with Wallace.

'He off the hook since we helped
the tower crew, get that stick-up boy.

'Wallace is bugging.

'Don't hardly even come out
of that room no more.'

- 'Why he be like that?'
- 'He might be getting high.

'The boy's scaring me with his shit.'

- 'All right, holler at me later.'
- 'That'll work.'

You got that shit on tape?


- God!
- His name is Brandon Wright.

Burned him, broke fingers,
gouged an eye out, all kinds of fun.

Wallace was the one who saw.

He saw the boy.

But he didn't think about what they'd do.

You must have known.
You were by that pay phone.

- You knew.
- What was I going to do, huh?

I don't call String, word get back uptown,
what's going to happen then?

So you told Wallace to wait, then you called
Stringer and he gathered the troops.


And down at the Greek's,
they got Wallace to point the finger.

Then they went in like cops with handcuffs,
so they could take their time on Brandon.

They dropped the body where we'd see it.

"Send a message to the 'jects," they said.

Wallace...he couldn't handle that.

After seeing that, he wanted to get out,
go back to school.

We even joked about it,
him being 16 and all,

needing to go start back over again
as a freshman.

About a week ago, my uncle and String
called me down to the club.

Stringer, he's all worried about Wallace,
and I told him.

I said, "Wallace ain't no snitch."

Plus, he's out the fucking game.

I told him that.

But I needed to do more.

I should've done more.

But I didn't, and, fuck, that's on me.

Any idea who they sent at Wallace?

Come on, D. Wild guess.

Man, I don't know, could've been anybody.
You know, shooters come cheap.

I don't think so. Not in the Pit.

Not in his crib.
I counted seven beds when I was up there.

- Where were the young 'uns?
- Look, if I knew, I would tell you.

All right? I swear to God, I would tell you.

They're charged with Orlando
and the undercover cop

but we're still hunting.

Him, he in Philly.

- How you know?
- Cos I dropped him there.

- Where?
- A corner, North end, I don't know.

Did Wee-Bey say anything to you
about the shootings?

We don't talk shop in a car.
It's a rule we got.

So, is that it?

Your client must realize that any agreement
is dependent on his full cooperation.

There ain't nothing else.


Tap, tap, tap.

She was one of my uncle's girls.

We got people who put you with her
the night she's killed.

I didn't know that he was gonna do her.
I swear. They played me.

How so?

My uncle gave me an eight-ball of coke.
Told me to take it over there to her.

I was surprised,
cos I thought he dumped her.

But he said it wasn't like that no more.

So, he had Wee-Bey take me over there.

I walked up, knocked on the door, she came
to the door naked, with this little robe on.

She's your uncle's girl
but she comes to the door naked?

She used to do that shit
with me all the time, man.

Teasing. You know how girls do.
Maybe you don't.

I don't know.

Anyway, I'm like,
"Ain't you going to let me come in?"

She's like, no. She gotta get ready
for my uncle to come by later.

So, I give her the coke.

She laughs about how she's going to put
that shit on ice, for later on.

- Refrigerate it.
- Uh-huh.

I don't know shit about no refrigerator.
Like I said, I didn't go in.

I turned around, started walking back
to the truck and I heard this shot.

Wee-Bey came running back
with this big-ass .45 he liked so much.

Tells me how he was tapping
on the window, real soft.

She had to walk all the way up cos
she couldn't see what was on the outside.

And when she gets up
to the window and looks out...

- You did good, D'Angelo.
- Yeah, you did.

Y'all don't understand, man.

Y'all don't get it.

I grew up in this shit.

My grandfather was Butch Stamford.

You know who Butch Stamford
was in this town?


All my people, man,
my father, my uncles, my cousins...

It's just what we do.

You just live with this shit
until you can't breathe no more.

I swear to God,
I was courtside for eight months

and I was freer in jail than I was at home.

What are you looking for?

I want it to go away.

- I can't.
- I want what Wallace wanted.

I want to start over.

That's what I want. I don't care where.
Anywhere. I don't give a fuck.

I just want to go somewhere
where I can breathe like regular folk.

You give me that...

and I'll give you them.

No, that's great. Really great.


That's our move.



We broke it open tonight. Wide open.
I'm bringing this case in big.

So, this squares things with Burrell, right?

To hell with the man.

But we might have enough to reach out to
the feds. Try to run this thing through them.

- Cedric.
- He knows about the money, Marla.

He's known for a long while.

Fact is, I wouldn't be surprised
if it's why he picked me for this case.

What does he...? What are you going to...?

He's got me if he wants me.
Thing is, I don't think he wants me.

Too much stink.

Too much mess.

Kind of like this case.

I have to admit it, Jimmy. This is a great case.

Not just because of Greggs,
it goes to that and answers that.

Because of how deep it goes.

I mean, the murders, the money...

I feel like I've been drunk
since that kid started talking to us.

You OK to drive? I can drop you home.
You can pick up your car tomorrow.

No, I'm good, I'm good.

I'm great, I'm great. This was fucking great!

You want to try to go federal with this?
I am up for it.

I get cross-designated as an AUSA,
and we can really run with it, you know?

Career fucking case.



Ronnie, the thing at, um...
Levy's the other day, I was, uh...

I was...

Jesus, Ronnie, not here. What are you doing?

Like you never did it
in the headquarters garage before?

Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

Look what just walked in
without a fucking escort.

Downtown Roy Brown,
the living legend in his own mind.

Uptown Lester Freamon.

Fuck me, how long's it been?

Your retirement party, wasn't it?
And this is retirement?

Yeah. Nice fucking digs, huh?

I asked my supervisor
when I'll see a little sunlight.

Runt cocksucker says,
"When your unit turns a profit."

But enough of my joy.

What do you guys need?

We need a trap and trace
but not in Maryland.

- Pennsylvania, Philly.
- You got to go through them.

They'll tell us it can't be done.
Then another week to OK our subpoena.

It's more complicated than a straight-up trace.

We need a list of phones in Philly
that called this number in the past week.

- What's the number?
- Drug lawyer, downtown office.

Thought Billing would be the place to look.

Well, if we can do it,
and I'm not saying we can,

it's going to be a fucking week, maybe two.

Thanks, Roy.

Hey, Lester.

Isn't this supposed to be the time
you tell me how fucking important this is?

The Philly number gives us the mope
who shot that female undercover.

I'm telling you, it's the perfect case.

- You'll love it.
- It sounds great.

But like I said,
we're not fishing for drug cases anymore.

Try DEA.

It's too close to our CID. Our bosses would
know we've gone there before a meeting.

Your bosses don't know you're doing this?

Who'll be coming?

Me, a detective name of Freamon,
and Daniels.

I can speak for Daniels, brother.
He's played this thing out with real heart.

Come on, set something up.

All right.

Could I get ten copies?

- Ten copies?
- Ten, right.

No problems?



All right, man, I'll get at you.

Yo, you locked that door, right? Yeah?

All right, so listen.
It's not street-ready, all right?

Everybody's gonna work on their own cut.

Now, listen to me,
tell them to get this straight.

Three parts of this, all right?
To one of raw, all right?

That's how we gonna do
until we get the new stash.

I want you to put the word out there
that we back up.

Understand me? We back up.

It's a good target.
You guys have a pretty good case here.

Look at the violence alone. There's a dozen
murders, including state's witnesses.

If you help us squeeze the Barksdale kid
into a witness protection program,

we can run wild.

- No suppliers though.
- We're still looking for a way into that.

There was nothing on the wire
that took us toward New York.

The trouble is,
we have these post-9/11 protocols.

We can't pick up any new narcotics work
unless it goes to priority crime targets.

Meaning Cosa Nostra or Colombians.
Or Russians maybe.

- We don't have Colombians in Baltimore.
- We don't have any wise guys.

All we got is locals
busy tearing the Westside apart.

I hear you
but the Bureau-wide protocol applies.

To run with you on this,
we need a recognized OC target

or a connect to counterterrorism
or corruption.

You go near stuff like that, we have
something we can bring to our ASAC.

- What kind of corruption?
- Don't know. What kind you got?

Yo, Poot, we up yet?

- Where Roc-Roc at with the shit?
- Package in.

- Who is it?
- Onion and them off-brand niggers.


- What the fuck they got?
- Some shit they call yellow tops.

Got them yellow tops, y'all.
Yellow tops.

Yellow tops, yellow tops.

what the fuck is up? Huh?

What the fuck is y'all doing? Do what you feel.
But be ready to finish what you start.

What you doing?
This ain't no open market.

Ain't no market at all. You ain't got shit
to sell. Back your ass up for those that do.

- You know what?
- What?

Get the fuck out of here, bitch!
Get your ass outta here!

- See, that's why we can't win.
- Why not?

They fuck up, they get beat.
We fuck up, they give us pensions.

Close it! Get the fuck out of here!

Heard you ain't much as an eyeball witness.

Bad as any civilian.

Guess so.

Where we at?

- With what?
- With the case, fool.

Jesus, give it a rest.

What's on the wire?

- Come on, man.
- Wire's dead.

They changed up after we hit them with raids.

Daniels didn't tell you?

Hell, no.

He only talks to me about the good shit.

About how y'all were
onto my shooters and stuff.

Yeah, well, we lost the wire,
but the good news is D'Angelo's flipped.

We're talking to the feds about...

Fuck both y'all.

She wants me to quit.

Says there ain't nothing worth this.

So, I promised her I'd think about it.

What do you say?

I don't know. I...

I guess you should do what you need to.

But she's right.

It isn't worth it.



Probably not.

Anyway, what took you so long
getting up in here?

Shit. No cards, no flowers.

I mean, what the fuck, Jimmy?

I couldn't, I...

I felt, uh...

A case like this, it's always you or Sydnor

or some other black cop
who ends up going undercover.

I swear, if I could do it over...

If I...

If I could do it over...

you know what I'd do?

Put more tape on that fucking gun.

I'm sorry, Kima.

I'm sorry.

Anyway, since I got you up in here
acting like my bitch and shit...

..with all your
guilty-ass crying and whatnot...

..maybe you can do something for me.

She said you were doing good.
Said she was proud of you.

How's she doing?

Still shook.

But she wanted you to have that and told me
to tell you she's sorry to be late with it.

Girl got such heart, you know?


This is enough for what I got
going on now, man.

You give the rest back to her.

Are you sure?

Give her my love.


Hey, McNulty.

Don't tell her.

- What you got, man?
- Over there, man.

Five guys got jumped. Not just you.

- Four other guys jumped me.
- I'm sorry, man.

It's got to be all the brutality complaints.
It'll never matter how well I do on no test.

You don't know that.
You might make the next list, you know?

- You don't know.
- Yeah.

Guess I ain't leadership material.
Congratulations, Carv.



The world is on its ass.

Guy called for you from the phone company.

He's got the number
for a house in Philadelphia.

Beautiful, thank you.

- Good casework.
- Thank you.

I don't think I'm giving anything away

by telling that Arnold has had a file on
Senator Davis for two years.

It took us a while,

but the quid pro quo is in that Westside
redevelopment mess.

Barksdale or his fronts
grease enough city politicians

and word comes back years in advance
where the development zone's gonna be.

He buys every piece of garbage real estate
he can, exaggerates the values.

The city's gonna pay him millions
to condemn the properties.

It's a lot to work with, but we're willing.

The question is, can your cooperator give us
the senator or any other political figure?

- The cooperator?
- D'Angelo Barksdale.

What does he have for us on the money?


He gives you the drugs and the violence.

He gives you Avon Barksdale, Stringer Bell.

- And they give us the senator.
- Maybe.

Whoa, whoa, you're making
Barksdale and Bell cooperators

and the politicians the target?

Of course.

Fuck the politicians. It's Barksdale and Bell.

They turned West Baltimore
into a free-fire zone.

No one's saying they walk.

But if we bring you the case,

you'll let Barksdale and Bell reduce
any sentence they get through cooperation?

Jesus Christ, are you kidding?
You're seeing all this ass-backwards.

We have a mandate
to pursue political corruption.

- Can you believe these guys?
- Jimmy, look.

Drugs and murder don't cut it anymore?
How about terrorism?

These guys have dropped 14, 15 bodies.
The witnesses, cooperators.

That kind of hyperbole
doesn't serve anyone, Detective.

I think we're going with
a different direction on this.

Thank you for your time.

West Baltimore is dying and you empty suits

are running around trying to pin
some politician's pelt to the wall.

Thought you was real police, brother.

So, they got you all the way out here?

I started out thinking you was in Jersey.

You ain't in Jersey, I figured they still got you
down in Central Booking.

All the way out here...

- Do send a message, though.
- A message needs sending.

How y'all even find me?

Ain't no one going to keep
a mother from her son, right?

You know, he always talking family.

"Family is the heart," he say.

Well, I'm family, ain't I?

Well, what about me for once?

It ain't right.

What's right?


You like for him to step up,
take all the weight, and let you walk?

Because he will. You know he will.

But if he got to go away that mean
you got to step up and fill his shoes.

You ready for that?

Ma, you know I ain't.

I ain't ready, and I'm never gonna be ready.

- D, come on.
- Look.

They're giving me a chance to walk away
to start again someplace else.

And what you giving them?


He messed up, D. He knows it.

Now if you want to
get even with him, you can.

But you hurt him,
you hurt this whole family. All of us.

Me and Trina and the cousins.

And Donette too. And your baby.
Your own baby boy.

This right here is part of the game, D.

And without the game, this whole family
would be down in the fucking Terrace

living off scraps.

We probably wouldn't even be a family.

Start over, huh?

How the fuck you going to
start over without your peoples?

Without your own child, even?

You ain't got family in this world,
what the hell you got?

This motherfucker Wee-Bey twitches,
there won't even be a trial.

Detective Carver, a word.

Shut the door.

What's up, LT?

Anything you want to tell me?

Been weeks now.

The deputy ops knows what's going on
in this unit almost before I do.

Except last week, we run the bug up
into Barksdale's club office

and Burrell, for once, he's a step behind.

You see it?

- Maybe...he...
- I see it.

I look around the office

and I see that one of my people
is at the academy for in-service.

Lieutenant, I swear, it wasn't my idea.

I'm minding my business, doing my job

when the man calls me for coffee
and a Danish.

I never been on
the eighth floor of that fucking building.

And there's the deputy fucking ops telling me
how concerned he is about the case,

how he needs to be informed.

I mean, he's the Deputy fucking Ops, man.

Couple weeks from now you're gonna be
in some district somewhere

with 11 or 12 uniforms
looking to you for everything.

And some of them
are going to be good police.

Some of them will be stupid,
a few will be pieces of shit.

But all of them will take their cue from you.

You show loyalty, they learn loyalty.

Show them it's about the work, it will be.

Show them some other kind of game,
then that's the game they'll play.

I came on in the Eastern.

A piece-of-shit lieutenant
was hoping to be a captain,

piece-of-shit sergeants
hoping to be lieutenants.

Pretty soon we had piece-of-shit patrolmen
trying to figure the job for themselves.

And some of what happens then
is hard as hell to live down.

Comes a day you're going to have to decide
whether it's about you or about the work.

Grand jury came in Tuesday.

But you knew that, right?

We're working a flight warrant today.


There's a lot to do here, in-office.

I'd be careful with that, though.

I understand the trigger pull
used to be light.

Keep him down, keep him down.

You got him? Get him up there,
get him up there.

Oh! Oh!

Bunch of low-bottom bitches.

- Get his wrists.
- You didn't have to fuck with my ride.

You motherfuckers got lucky.


Podunk lawyer in Denton's
giving the guards a hard time

about moving D'Angelo
from original jurisdiction.

Put the call through.


Officer Mace, ASA Pearlman.
You got a problem with the lawyer?

OK, put the asshole on.

This is he.

You do not make it easy, Jimmy.
I have to admit, I am deeply ambivalent.

- Excuse me?
- Sit.


- Here.
- I heard from Bunk.

Philly. Great work.

You all did great work. And the number
of clearances I'm looking at here...

Christ, for the first time this year,
we got the clearance rate up over 40%.

That's on the one hand.

On the other hand, the deputy ops
got a call from the deputy US attorney

asking whether an asshole such as yourself
really works for us.

This is the first the deputy hears his troops
are creeping behind his back

to take a case federal
when they were told it was closed.

You're a good detective.

And I've got to admit
you got some stones on you.

Did you actually call
the first deputy an empty suit?

I want to see you land OK, Jimmy.

So, tell me, where don't you want to go?

You all know that Baltimore city jurors
are capable of just about anything.

If you want to spend months going through a
bunch of half-heard telephone conversations

and see how well you do,
I'll certainly respect the effort.

It's not just talk on the wire. We've got money
and lot of dope on the table.

And a lot of violence.

All of which stops way short of Mr. Barksdale.
You know this.

All of it except for the New Jersey bust.
That one he eats.

Maybe he does. Maybe he pleads to one count
of attempted possession

and takes, I don't know, maybe three, four.

Maybe he can arrange for everyone you have
on those tapes to follow suit.

Maybe you get five-year pleas
from those with no prior felony convictions.

Ten years for those with one prior,
15 for two or more.

What about the murders?

We acknowledge you've got Mr. Brice cold
for the murder of Orlando

- and the wounding of the police officer.
- Who?


Representing Mr. Brice, I'm fairly confident
that to avoid the death penalty,

he'll proffer to at least a half-dozen
of your open murders.

Naming co-conspirators?

For that kind of cooperation,
I'd consider straight life.

I believe Mr. Brice is ready to take
sole responsibility for all of his crimes.

Still, you walk away
with at least a half-dozen clearances.


Take the strip club, whatever trucks
and cars you can link to the drugs,

and whatever cash you've seized.

He's got dozens of other properties.
The funeral parlor, the towing company.

You get the cars,
because you can tie them to illegal activity.

There's nothing else of his to take.

So you keep the money, the real estate,

and Stringer Bell stays on the street
with his hand on the throttle.

If you have a charge against Mr. Bell, file it.

Otherwise, I understand that nothing
in all those hours of tape implicates him.

Three or four years ain't enough, Maury.

Not for Avon Barksdale.


Make an offer.

'Part 14 of the circuit court
of Baltimore City now in session.'

- Be seated.
- First up.

State versus Avon Randolph Barksdale,
Your Honor.

One count of possession with intent
to distribute, to wit, a kilogram of heroin.

- You have a statement of facts?
- Mr. Barksdale is offering a plea of guilty

in exchange for a maximum
of seven years in DOC

in consideration of the following facts -

on or about the date of September 17, 2002,

in the jurisdiction of Essex County,

Trooper Robert Warren
of the New York barracks

effected a traffic stop on a Ford Taurus
traveling southbound near Exit 13.

It resulted from information gleaned from
surveillance of Mr. Barksdale

and his nephew, D'Angelo Barksdale,

by detectives assigned to a detail
under the command of a narcotics supervisor.

A search of the vehicle, rented
from the Avis location at BWI Airport,

revealed that a kilogram of pure heroin was
concealed beneath a spare tire in the trunk.

Mr. Barksdale acknowledges his role
in procuring those drugs

with the intent to dilute, package,
and sell retail amounts of heroin.

Diedre Kresson, Roland Leggett,
Toreen Boyd, all tied to the same gun.

Plus, we got the stick-up boys,
Brandon Wright, John Bailey.

With Orlando, that makes six.
Plus the attempted murder on a police.

That it?

- I do better if I give them more?
- Life, no parole, means what it says.

This proffer keeps you off death row
but that's all.

You were on the wrong side
of a cop getting shot.

You want to dream about straight life,

you got to talk about Avon Barksdale
and Stringer Bell.

- Nah.
- You might as well give them what you have.

Anything you leave out is outside the deal.

- They can charge you later.
- Fuck it then.

For another pit sandwich
and some potato salad, I'll go a few more.

- How you want that?
- Medium rare, a lot of horseradish.

All right. I did Little Man, thinking he might
get weak on that cop getting shot.

Yeah? Where's the body?

Druid Hill. Behind the reptile house.

You get back in them weeds,
you might find what's left of him.

All right, that's seven. What else you got?


How about them witnesses?

The security lady, and whatshisname,
the maintenance man?

- Gant?
- Yeah. Gant.

You did Gant alone?

They're out of potato salad. I got slaw.

Information gleaned from surveillance shows
that Mr. Watkins, a.k.a. Ronnie Mo,

was involved in the distribution
of heroin and cocaine in the high-rises

at 734 Fayette and 221 North Fremont.

In exchange for his pleading guilty
to conspiracy,

he agrees to a sentence
not to exceed 15 years in DOC.

Mr. Watkins is on probation
for a drug distribution charge

adjudicated in Judge Prevas's court
in August, 2001...

Cedric, hey.

Major Cantrell.

- Congrats.
- Thanks.

- Where are they sending you?
- Northwest. Spurgeon's retiring.

- I heard that was happening.
- If ever you want a change, give a yell.

I could use a good shift lieutenant. Right
now, the whole fucking district's a mess.

- What isn't?
- Hey,

- good seeing you.
- You too.

You see, this ain't no DEU.
It ain't like that.

When you came downtown, the job changed.

Down here, we make big cases, big
hairy-balled cases like this Barksdale thing.

All that mess
you call police work down in the districts,

all that fuck-somebody-up and rip-and-run
bullshit. It won't play down here.

You think I'm kidding.
This is what makes cases, gentlemen. This!

Remember that.

Nicely done.

Motherfucker, I been here since lunch,

Ain't nobody been through here.

You hear me?
I been waiting and y'all ain't about shit.

Yeah, listen to me. Look, if you feel like that,
then get off this phone.

Come down here and step to me then, nigger.

All right.

Yo, if Roc-Roc ain't here in ten minutes
with my re-up, whoop his ass, man.

You did a tour in Homicide years ago

but let me tell you how I run this unit,
because how I run it is how it runs.

We work on rotation.
You're up until you catch a call.

Then you step down
and someone else steps up behind you.

This is the way we do business in a town
with 250, 300 murders a year.

And it works.

You do not play the game for yourself,
you play it for us.

If you remember these few rules, you'll
find me to be supportive and reasonable.

Very reasonable, sir.

- That's what they say about me.
- They say that. They do.

Yo, D.

- What the fuck was that?
- Huh?

You take a nigger's money,
then you serve him? What the fuck?

I'm saying, take their money,

then send them round
and let some other nigger serve.

The way you doing it, someone snapping
pictures got the whole deal. You hear?

We got to tighten up around here, yo.


Hell of a case. Read all about it
in the papers. You done good, kiddo.

I gotta...

D'Angelo Barksdale supervised distribution
in the low-rise courtyards

and was also involved in the violence
attributed to the organization.

He was arrested in New Jersey possessing
heroin intended for distribution in Baltimore.

He acknowledges his role as a conspirator

and is on parole for two earlier counts
of distribution dating from March, 1999.

- What are you asking?
- As he has two prior convictions

and is insisting the effort to transport the kilo
was undertaken on his own behest,

and is refusing to cooperate against others,

the state is offering only the maximum
allowable 20 years, Your Honor.

Mr. Levy, this is your understanding
of the plea agreement?

- Yes, sir.
- Very well then, Mr. Barksdale.

- Can you hear me distinctly?
- Yes.

Are you under the influence of alcohol?

- Wee-Bey, man.
- How'd it go?

Life, no parole. He puts himself in for Orlando
and the attempt murder on Greggs.

He also takes Nakeisha Lyles, Diedre Kresson,
the two project murders that match that gun,

both the stick-up boys, and Little Man.

Little Man?

Body found up behind
the reptile house in Druid Hill.

He gave us that one just for fun, I think.
He also takes William Gant.

- I know. It's bullshit.
- How'd he tell it?


- Boom.
- He said a contact wound? It doesn't play.

Gant had no compression, no stippling.

Wound was to the front.
He's talking out of his ass.

But this motherfucker's
just taking murders just to take them.

He's taking life for shooting a cop,
what the fuck?

- Might as well spring Bird for killing Gant.
- All rise.

Jesus, what the fuck did I do?

You happy now, bitch?

Step by step

All the happy saints go marching in

And if those saints step out of line

You have to start again

Cos Jacob's golden ladder

Gets slippery at the top

And many a happy-go-lucky saint
has made that long, long drop

If I'm late, don't wait

Go on without me

I may tarry a while

Cos I need to know

Before I go

How come the devil smiles...

How's it going, man? How you doing?

If I'm late, don't wait

Go on without me

I may tarry a while

Cos I need to know

Before I go

How come the devil smiles

Free from care, free from fear

The saints are trooping in

Children play all around the throne

Innocent of sin

A trillion voices sing the name

The mortal may not know

And heaven's walls too high to hear
the trouble down below

If I'm late, don't wait

Go on without me

I may tarry a while

I need to know

Before I go

How come the devil smiles

I need to know

Before I go

How come...

Are you the man with them jumbo sixes?

- How many you fucking want?
- Take about three or four hundred.


All in the game, yo.

All in the game.

Right, but I didn't think...


'For sure.'