The Wire (2002–2008): Season 5, Episode 3 - Not for Attribution - full transcript

Carcetti's master plan for the police department is leaked to the press, sending the brass into a panic. Marlo turns to Proposition Joe to help with an enviable problem. Whiting and Klebanow drop a bombshell on the newspaper staff.


Type quieter, asshole.

Early relief.
So get the fuck out of here.

Jesus, Bunk.
What time is it?

4:30.

I couldn't sleep, so
get the fuck gone.

What time did Mcnulty
leave last night?

Never did.
He's in number one.

Pulling his hair out
over some shit.

Think again about what
the fuck you're doing.

Bunk, this can work.

It can.

Fuck you. I mean that.

4:00 in the fuckin' morning?

Oh, so it is.

All of these?

Homeless murders
from the last 5 years.

Everything before that is on microfilm,
but we got enough right here

Most of it open.

We don't do so well
with homeless kilings.

Transient locales,
no nearest, no dearest.

No one gives a fuck.
Cases stay open forever.

- You're going to jail behind this shit.
- Yes, you are.

You know what they do
to police in jail?

Pretty police like yourself?
Motherfucker,

We have kids.
Houses.

Car payments.
Furniture.

I just bought brand new lawn chairs

and a glass patio table.
You don't buy no shit like that if you

plan to lose your job
and go to prison.

- You won't even get past the m.e.
- Watch me.

You're dumping murders on us
that we can't solve.

- You're fucking our clearance rate.
- Fuck the fucking numbers already.

The fucking numbers destroyed
this fucking department.

Landsman and his clearance
rate can suck a hairy asshole.

Marlo ain't worth it.
Nobody is.

Marlo's an asshole.

He does not get to win.
We get to win.

This case doesn't go away

just because the bosses
can't find the money to pay for it.

These are fucking murders--
Ghetto murders, but still,

I came back out of the western
to work this case

because they said it would be worked.

I came back out on a promise,
and they're gonna keep that promise.

Whether they know it or not.

I'm gonna tell Landsman.

Yeah. You keep on with it,

I'm gonna rat you out.

You do what you got to do.

My name is
nowhere in the file.

I don't want fuck to do with this.

Hey, Bunk.

Captioning made possible
by home box office, inc.

What're you doing?

Final is out.
I want to see my story.

Now?

It's my first time out front.
I want to see it.

This is why we should
get home delivery.

Why pay for it when I get
it for free at the office?

Be back.

Brother ray.

God rest ye.

When does the "sun" get here?

Around now usually.

- Anybody got a working car?
- I got one,

but I'm going back out
to my crime scene for a canvass.

Drop me at the m.e.?

My office now.

I'll get a lift over
from one of the central cars.

This is way past any shit
you ever pulled in your life.

- Think on it.
- You see Greggs out there,

bagging evidence alone,

then going back out
to recanvass on a triple?

A triple fucking murder.
A home invasion,

and she's working it alone.

They pulled Crutchfield this morning,
put him back in the rotation.

- That's on them, but you can't--
- Fucking right, that's on them.

A triple murder,

and 12 hours later
they leave one detective alone on it?

I guess she's lucky
she has a car.

- This shit won't work.
- Then we're no worse than before.

- Extra red name or two on the board.
- Yeah, unless you got caught.

Who in this fucking unit
is gonna catch me?

Most of the guys up here couldn't catch
the clap in a mexican whorehouse.

What's with the red ribbon?

Barlow had an open strangle
a few years back.

Homeless guy with a red ribbon
tied around his wrist.

So that's two.

Also, I found an open homeless
case which Ray Cole worked.

I wrote a ribbon
into his office reports.

- So there's 3.
- Our guy didn't have a red ribbon.

- That's where I'm headed.
- Jesus.

- Listen to yourself.
- Upstairs

wouldn't jump on a real serial killer--
fuckin' Marlo,

who's got bodies all over hi

maybe they need the make-believe.

Yeah, maybe you're the asshole
just lost his fucking mind.

- Crutchfield.
- Yeah, I'm locked in the box.

- In the box?
- It's no joke. Let me out.

Be right there.

He fuck you?

He tried...

But mostly he just fucks himself.

You ain't seen those yet, huh?

I'll bet you didn't.

Fucking Burrell's asshole
must be so tight

you couldn't pull a pin from it
with a John Deere tractor.

Here you're promising
a double-digit drop,

and he gives you

a 4% bump

for two quarters in a row.

Thanks for bringing these by, Stan.

Well, I wanted to
give you a heads up.

Truth is,
looking at numbers like those,

I'm thinking you could do a lot worse

than give me a run
as acting commissioner.

I know you couldn't make me permanent.

maybe 6 months

while you keep grooming
your boy Daniels.

I'd get a pension bump,

and you'd get a head start
on clearing out deadwood,

beginning with Burrell
and Rawls.

Thanks, Stan.
Let me think on it.

You do that, Tommy.

Even on an acting basis,
can you imagine

Nerese and the Ministers dealing
with commissioner Valchek?

What are you gonna do
about the numbers?

Fuck can I do? I cut the department
budget to the bone, right?

Can't very well complain
when the crime rate bumps.

Burrell comes in here
and owns these,

I got to give him a pass--

at least until I can fix
his money problems.

Your piece took a bad bite there.

35 inches down to 12?

Yeah, well, it's my fault
for giving it up to the a-section.

Page one editor made
noises like it was

gonna go out front. Then he...

ossed it back to metro
before the double-dot.

Night editor didn't have room
to take it back, so...

Story deserved better. Sorry.

3 people murdered in a house,

and it gets 12 inches below the fold.

- Explain that to me.
- There's no explaining it.

Advertising's down,

we got a smaller news hole,
we're not managing it well.

We messed up.

That's all.

Wrong zip code.

They're dead where it doesn't count.

If they were white
and murdered in Tmonium,

you'd have had 30 inches off the front.

Would have been my first front-pager
where I didn't share a byline.

Yeah?

I drove down to the port covington plant
this morning to get a copy.

Well, you ain't the first to do that.

Our 10-7 on e floor yet?

He's by the overhead camera.

I need to grab prints,
get him I.D.ed.

Don't you want to wait for the post,
keep his hands clean for trace?

I need to know who my victim is.
That's the priority.

Finish your breakfast.
I got plenty of time.

There's nothing under the nails
that I can see.

I think we can risk prints.

Something's up.

Please. Gather around.

Steve, could someone get word
across the hall to features and sports?

We want everyone on this.

What, did we get sold again?

First the "L.A. Times" buys us up,
then the "Tribune."

Law of the fish.

- We're the minnow.
- Maybe we won a Pulitzer.

Pulitzers are still a week away.

It just turned April.

Look at Whiting's pants.

If we won a Pulitzer,
the executive editor would be tumescent.

Toom-what?

Speak English.
I'm just a police reporter.

Tumescent. Engorged.

Exactly.

It's a bad time for newspapers,
as you all know.

The news hole is shrinking

as advertising dollars
continue to decline.

Our circulation numbers
are also down as we compete with a

variety of media.

Technology is driving distribution,

and the Internet

is a free source of news and opinions.

Seeking a balance in this new world,

we're now faced with hard choices.

We opened our first foreign
bureau in London in 1924.

The "Sun's" foreign coverage
has been a source of pride ever since.

So it is with

tremendous regret

that I tell you that Chicago
has made it clear that the bureaus

in Beijing,

Moscow, Jerusalem,
Johannesburg, and London

will all be shuttered.

Elsewhere in the newsroom,

there will be
a fresh round of buyouts.

Chicago has given us some specific

budgetary targets

that will require some hard choices

throughout the newsroom.

We are, quite simply,

going to have to find ways
to do more with less.

So I guess I will
turn this over to tom,

who will get into the specifics.

I know some of you have questions.

If you could hold them for me
until after I've had a chance to speak.

Pull your clipbook together.
Time to find a new home.

Chicago has sent us a memo

outlining options that are
available to those of you...

The aorta should have elasticity to it,

t it's rock hard.

Whoever strangled him could've
just waited a month or two more.

This guy was on his last legs.

It is what it is.

In addition to the fractured hyoid
and the bruising,

I got signs of a struggle
around the body,

a couple witnesses

who thought they heard sounds
of a struggle inside the house.

Also that ribbon you snipped off,

it might tie to other cases.

The ribbon my own investigator
missed at the scene.

It happens.
It was high on the wrist.

Cause and manner
is homicide by strangulation.

Good hunting, detective.

"and anyone requiring
additional information

"on cobra benefits
and pension payout as part

"of the voluntary separation plan

can schedule an appointment
with human resources."

Some of you will migrate
into new positions

while others will of course

be moving on to other opportunities
beyond the Sun,

but everyone in this room
has done excellent work

and should be proud
of their contributions.

- How many buyouts are there?
- That hasn't been determined yet.

We're talking to the union later today.

How'll this affect the upcoming contract
negotiations with the guild?

Badly.
Kiss any raise good-bye.

How come there's cuts in the newsroom
when the company's still profitable?

There's nobody that feels
worse about this than I do.

I've seen the excellent work
we've done here in Baltimore.

The sooner we start
meeting with you individually,

the sooner I can answer
all of your questions.

- Not O'mara.
- Yeah.

Aw, no.

Good luck everybody.

No increase in felonies
and a 1% bump in total crime.

Do you vouch for these figures?

- Sir?
- No increase in crime

even after I cut you guys to the bone.
This is what you're telling me?

Because the one thing I'm
asking of you guys--

the one thing
that I'm asking above all--

is that you bring me clean numbers.

Yes, Mr. Mayor.
You made that clear.

Very good then.

Burrell is done.

He just killed himself.
We leak the real stats,

hold the cooked ones
in case he won't go quietly.

And replace him with who?

Rawls?
He came in with the same stats.

If I know Bill Rawls,
he'll be calling over here as

soon as he gets back to his office,

telling us he warned Burrell
against cooking the books.

The ministers won't live with Rawls.
Neither will Nerese.

As acting commissioner,
they will for a few months at least

if we've got a black
candidate to sell them.

Daniels isn't ready.

He's only been Colonel for a year.

A year will do in a pinch.

You float it with one of your
bunkies on Calvert street.

See how it plays.

Burrell reads that,
he'll shit melons.

I fucking hope so.

It's Baltimore.

No one lives forever.

Andreas, right?

The Russian sent me.

Need you to get a word to Vondas.

He got a new friend.*

I never hear the name.

Just let him know Marlo
came past with a gift.

Be at you same time tomorrow.

Any idea how long this could take?

Don't know.
Might be here all day.

I have meetings scheduled.

We've got to lay
the foundation carefully,

make it so the grand jurors understand

all the ins and outs
so they don't get lost in the details.

Mr. Howard?

Is there any way
I could go earlier?

If you're important enough, sure.

I'm the vice president
of a major financial institution.

Who the fuck isn't?

Now, sir, directing your attention
to the document in your hand,

is that also an account statement?

Yes, it is,

for a non-profit,
interest-bearing account,

organizational,
with 5013 designation.

Can begin by slowly
explaining in the most basic terms

each of those things,
beginning with the word non-profit?

- Hey, is box two open?
- Not yet.

What about 3?

Someone's killing homeless men.

Medical examiner says so.

Weird thing about my case, Bunk?

Dead man was homeless,
but he had a red ribbon

tied around his wrist.

What does a homeless guy
have to remember

that he should have a red ribbon
tied around his wrist?

- Burlow.
- What?

Nice out.

Oh, like Chanel no. 5
comes out of your ass, moreland.

If you got a problem,
then I got a problem.

That's how the co-op work.

What's the problem?

I got too much money.

Son, believe me,
you ain't alone.

What to do with the shit
we sell ain't no thing.

In Baltimore,
dope and coke sell themselves,

but the money that come back?

Ain't enough mattresses, is there now?

You got any ideas?

A few.

If you askin'.

- Not Twigg.
- Damn.

Guy gives 20 years to the paper,
and this how it ends?

Fact of the matter is,
it's more profitable these days

to run a worse paper for less money.

Cut back people and pages,

you increase revenue.

If we're lucky,
they'll just get rid of deadwood.

How'd it go?

"You've done excellent work."

Without being explicit,
they gave me a choice--

either the copy desk or the buyout.

- You're kidding, right?
- Apparently,

they can hire
one-and-a-half 20-somethings

for what it costs to keep
me in print, so...

Damn, Roger.

- Sorry, man.
- Fuck it.

I might as well get to work
on the Great American Novel.

Gus, come on in.

Have a seat.

Relax, gus.
We need you here.

We value your dedication.

You've done excellent work.

We're counting on you
to transition the new team.

There's still going to be
excellent talent out there

- that needs to be developed.
- What kind of team's going to be left?

We're losing good people,

but we expect to retain
the core of a solid staff.

Doing more with less.

That's what we have
to contemplate going forward.

More with less, huh?

Look at this.

A red ribbon in one
of Ray Cole's files.

Cole left a note with it.
"Found on left wrist of victim.

Check against other cases."

Hey, hon.

How's the stain look on the cabinets?
They dry yet?

Great.
I'm on my way.

This is the hard part,
getting these guys to give a shit.

Let's get a taste. I'm buying.

You think I'm drinking with you?

Go home, Jimmy.

- Think your weak shit through, man.
- Go home?

For the love of God,
I'm working a serial killer.

You want to talk on it?

Went with Chris and them,

set up on this family.

Everything so serious now.

Yo, little man, you
finish your howork?

'cause it's late now,

and it's only gonna get later
if we don't roll home soon.

Ain't no school tomorrow.

Teacher meetings.

We should do something, mike.

Got my corner to run.

What?

What, nigga?

Six Flags be open again.*

That shit's taking forever.

Complicated stuff, I suppose.

It's more like
Joe make it complicated.

That nigga got a thing
for conversation.

Not like Marlo.

Definitely not.

Now, see, pastor here,

he one of about 3
I like to give money to.

Help with his good works
and all that.

Good works?

He down with all kind of missionary work
going on down in the islands.

You know,
building a church for some folk,

a schoolhouse for some other folks,

all kind of good shit like that.

And what else y'all building?

- A hospital.
- Hospital, yeah.

Except they been building that mess
for about 10 years now,

and nothing ever actually get finished.

How you gonna clean my money?

Got accounts at some
of the banks down there.

Donations come in as cash,

cashier's checks come out.

Tiny-ass Caribbean island

don't truck with no subpoenas,
no court orders,

- none of that.
- You pay 10 on the dollar.

Anything beyond that
depends on your generosity,

to save those who want to be saved.

I'm back.

I can see that.

Again.

I saw your text message
on my cell phone today,

it took me a minute remember
who the hell you were.

- It ain't been that long.
- Shit.

When you left,
I was still covering the labor beat.

We ain't had a labor reporter
around here in 3 years.

Yeah, well, now you the big,
bad city editor,

I'm whoring myself for politicians.

You got out
just at the right time, too.

- That bad, huh?
- Chicago is killing us.

One buyout after another.

I can't even begin to think
what our next round

of guild negotiations is gonna be like.

Enough of me crying.

What are you selling tonight,
dear Norman?

Carcetti's planning
to shitcan Burrell.

He's talking to people and
considering replacements.

City hall source?

Who's the leading candidate?

Rawls, deputy for operations,
might have the job for a few months,

but there's a front runner
from deeper in the department.

Cedric Daniels.

It's been a while since
I've been on the street there, Orman.

Who's this Daniels?

Chief of detectives.
Polished.

Holds a law degree.

Brought closure
to some high-level cases.

His ex-wife got herself
elected to the council last go-round.

I always liked photos
with my stories.

And this is aimed at who?

The ministers?
Nerese?

You want to see if they can live
with this fella here, right?

A- ight.

From one whore to another.

What the fuck?
Check this shit out.

Beautiful.

Holy shit.
Look at this motherfucker.

Hit him with the spot.

C.I.d. Figures, don't it?

Where y'all need to go?

Down Six Flags.

You talkin' round trip?

Run you two hundred plus gas.

Where you at?

I got 150, gas included
if it even get us there.

Don't be fretting on the ride now.
This motherfucker tried and true.

A- ight.

I got half when we get there
and half on the way back.

I guess you're not up for a story.

- I need something worked on right away.
- What do you got?

Mayor's thinking
about firing the police commissioner.

He's floating the idea anyway.

No problem. I'm all over it.

What do you know about Daniels?

- Who is he?
- C.I.D. Commander.

Came out of the eastern D.E.U.

married to the Daniels
that won the council seat in '06.

Brought in a couple
of big wiretap cases,

they gave him the western,
hoping to clean up that district

after they shitcanned Bunny Colvin.

Since getting separated, he's been
shacked up with Ronnie Pearlman

over at the state's attorney's office.

No suction early in his career,

but now that he's got Carcetti's ear,

now the brass stay out of his way.

What's the man's favorite color?

You sure?

Yeah, what the hell?
I'm already on the clock.

- Ops bureau.
- Hi, darlin'.

It's Roger Twigg
with the Sunpapers.

- Hey, roger.
- Is the deputy around?

- Sure.
- Thanks, hon.

An hour or two,
I'd have had it surrounded.

No doubt.

While Mr. Deadwood here's
working the story,

see if you can feed him
some react quotes.

It's a generous gift, but...

your money,
the money you bring me,

I don't need.

Money is money.

What's the difference
who bring it to you?

It's dirty money.

It stinks.

- We ain't in the same business?
- The bills are from the street.

They're dirty, you understand?

Everything runs through joe.

Everything is clean with Joe.

Ain't a problem.

Good.
Good-bye.

Hey, Bunk.

What kind of knot
you say was on that red ribbon?

The one on the homeless guy's wrist.

Ck yourself with your red ribbon.

Just thought of something.

I caught a vagrant months back had
a red ribbon tied around his wrist.

You remember that?

Hell of a catch, detective.
Hell of a catch.

Can I see your file?

Clean bills?

You mean laundered, right?

I just showed you how.

Naw. He mean clean,

like the money straight out
the bank and shit.

- All lookin' nice.
- See, people ain't right.

Here you are tryin'
to pay a motherfucker,

an' all he worried about
is what the money look like.

Normally, my fee for this
would be 20 on the dollar.

40,000 to make it look nice.

You need this back today, too.

Might ordinarily charge more,

but seeing as how we co-op,
no charge.

Speaking of co-op,

tell them niggas that got burnt

I'm givin' away 50
for a line on Omar's people.

His sister, his me-maw
some faggy he be with.

All that shit count, you hear me?

- I'd let sleeping dogs lie, son.
- Oh, I know you would, Joe.

You smart like that.

Me?

Anyway, pass that offer on.

Come back for this here in an hour.

Boy want omar bad.

I ain't giving him a thing on Omar.

Omar been gone.

Took a lot
of bad history with him, too.

Why in the hell would I want
that motherfucker back?

How fast you think we were
going on that first drop?

- 75 an hour.
- That's it?

Felt like I was coming out
of my seat, man.

You always knowing
stuff like that. How?

Ooh, over there!

Y'all throwin' some bricks.

Put a little touch on it.

Watch.

Put some backspin on it, or else
it'll bank off the box and not in it.

Hold this.

- So where Fairfax at?
- Northern Virginia.

- How about you?
- I live up Baltimore.

That's so cool.
You two have your own place?

- Yeah, and Bug.
- That's tight.

Madman on the loose, huh?

3 linked cases and counting.

He's killing vagrants, is he?

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Who covers us for the
Sunpapers nowadays? Twigg?

Him or this new girl.
Alma something.

Baltimore Sun. Gutierrez.

Ok. Can I meet you?

Do you know Al Pacino's?

How about half an hour?

Ok. See you then.

Good react quote from
me in metro write.

Scott, come here.

This quote, here.

"Carcetti may be holng the knife,
but Daniels sharpened it for him.

He's been critical
of Burrell since the election."

Good shit, huh?

Yeah, from a high-ranking
city hall source?

You feel comfortable telling me
where you got that?

Not really, it being a source.

It's a great quote, but, uh,

if you're gonna-- if you're gonna
slam somebody anonymously,

I at least have to be sure
that the quote--

Nerese Campbell.

She's not gonna slam
the Mayor's choice publicly,

but not-for-attribution,
that's her quote.

You got Nerese to say that, huh?

Twigg's not the only guy
with game around here.

Let Vondas know I ain't mean
no misunderstanding earlier.

How do you know they're connected?

Is there D.N.A. Evidence
or a signature?

We can't release that yet.
You know, copycats.

So there is a signature.

What?

You're good.

- You're new, right?
- 5 months.

I worked at the Sun-sentinel
in Lauderdale before this.

I've read your stories.
They're good.

Bullshit, but thanks.

You're gonna run
something right away, right?

We got to get the word out on this.

What kind of name is Alma?

I have a boyfriend, detective.

He bigger than me?

Can I ask you why
on the day in question

you were operating the senator's car
when you were detained by city police

with $20,000 in cash?

On advice of my attorney,
I ain't gonna answer that.

Ya'll trying to criminate me here.

Mr. Price, you are employed
as a driver for senator Davis,

earning 30,000 a year,
is that correct?

- Yeah, so?
- Yet,

it is my understanding that

you are also drawing a $40,000 salary

as the executive director
of the west Baltimore hoops charity

and another 30,000

as the fundraising director
for the senator's day-care initiative.

How are you able to earn 3 salaries,

working 3 jobs
at the same time, Mr. Price?

You have a nice day.

Blind motherfucker.

His joint on Collington
on the east side of the street.

If he give up Omar, though,
I want in on that shit.

Nigga put a gun in my face, man.

- Joe know about Butchie?
- Motherfucker, I know about him.

Joe don't know shit about this here,

and he ain't need to know.

Now where my cheese at, man?

The fuck you been at, nigga?

Wasn't no school today, so we took Bug
to do something. Ain't no thing.

It is when you don't tell no one.

Now I had to come down here all day long
to make sure your shit is straight.

This your corner or what, nigga?

I'm checking now to make sure
shit's right at the end of the day,

a-ight?

- Yo, count right?
- Yeah. All straight.

Ain't the point, and you know it.

Chris already heard about this shit.

Nice dolphin, nigga.

Let's go home, man.
I'll deal with this bullshit later.

That's 400 in your own
account down in the islands.

There no hurricane,
department of justice,

or nigga with a gun can tap that.

How I even know it's there?

You check it online
any time you like.

On a computer?

- If I can't hold it in my hand--
- A- ight.

You got any prior convictions?

No, nothing that rate.

We get you a passport then.

Take a trip.

Ain't easy civilizing
this motherfucker.

We chose poorly, gus.

At this rate, there won't be much
to call a newspaper in 10 years.

You know, my father
worked over at armco, right?

And every morning
before he went to work,

he'd sit at the table,

reading the newspaper
with a cup of coffee,

and no one could interupt him

for that 15 minutes
before he walked out the door,

and I remember watching him, thinking,

"What the hell is so important
about that damned paper?

I want to be part of that."

Made me want to be a newspaperman.

One day I was cutting class
at Patterson,

and there was this man
on the downtown bus

folding his broadsheet just so.

And the way that man folded that paper

and concentrated on reading those pages

made him look like the smartest
son of a bitch on the bus.

It was just one of those moments.

"If, ever I depart this vale,

"and you ever remember me

"and have thought to please my ghost,

"forgive some sinner,

"and wink your eye
at some homely girl."

Fuck Henry Mencken.

I forgive you, gus.

Oh, my God.

You see that quote from somebody
about me stabbing Burrell in the back?

That's a damn lie.

So what?

You're going to be
named commissioner.

This is good news.
How is this not good news?

Thanks.

Cheap motherfucker.

No, no, see.

If you stack it with the domestic beer,
then I won't know.

Cut a blind man some slack, hear?

- Y'all servin'?
- If you got some I.D. on you.

Who was that?

Little girl.

- Cash is in the register.
- Fuck the register, old man.

They all up in your shit.
They going after every damn thing.

Do you hear me?

We going to jail.

Focus, motherfucker, focus!

Look here.

Back in the girdle ads
underneath the story about the-

the school board approving
a name change for p.s. 114,

it's--
it's Jimmy Mcnulty's ripper.

You know why they call them homeless?

Because they ain't got a pot to piss in,
and you know why they ain't got a pot?

Because nobody gives a good fuck.

Shake it for another day or two,
and then you're back in the rotation.

You done with this stupid shit?

Who the fuck do you need
to hear it from, Jimmy?

You have to let Burrell know
that this isn't coming from you.

That won't matter.

After what he read today,
I'm the threat.

Then you have to tell him

that you won't take the job,
that you don't want his chair.

And he believes me?

The alternative is that he goes public
with what he knows,

whatever he has about the old days.

- He sat on it this long.
- You said yourself,

he'd rather bury that file than to
embarrass the department on his watch,

but if it's between you
and him surviving,

what do you think he'll do then?

How much could even be in that file?
An assets investigation?

Some loose talk?

It was so long ago.
Most of those guys have moved on.

He only needs smoke.

He doesn't even need fire
to drag you down,

to drag me down.

Everything that we have
worked so hard for.

We've already lost enough.

What other people Omar got?

Cosucker the one got the trouble.

No need for you to stand tall on it.

It don't have to be messy.

Ain't no other way.
I can see that.

Where I find Omar?

Where Omar at?

You a tough old man.

When word get to Omar,

make sure he hear everything.

We still ain't got no line on the man,

and now he comin' at us.

We gonna change up.

Marlo got to move indoors.
The rest of us need to live on the run.

Fucked-up plan, you ask me.

Marlo wants Omar.

What else you need to know?

You making your move on Burrell,
and I don't blame you,

and the thing is,
I can help with that.

The ministers, Nerese,
black legislative caucus--

- I can bring them around for you.
- Feel free.

All I need is some help
with this grand jury nonsense.

You go to Bond,

- you tell Bond that--
- I can't help you with that.

Story's been out all day,
and our phone isn't ringing.

The ministers, Nerese, the caucus,

they're willing
to live with Daniels apparently.

Thanks anyway.

Thinking you can cut Clay loose, huh?

Thinking I'm done.

Bonjour.

Came to see my account.

Vous parlez pas francais?

Y'all got my money?

Je ne parle pas anglais.

This mine.

- Y'all got my money.
- Oui, monsieur.

J'ai juste besoin de ?a.

S'il vous pla?t,
est-ce que je pourrais avoir le...

?a.

Merci.

Identification,
s'il vous plait.

What?

- ?a.
- Yeah.

Oui.

Merci.

OK, monsieur Marlo.

So you string together
Barlow's murder

and Cole's unconnected case and yours,
which is natural to begin with...

Instant serial killer,
which I thought would get the brass

to begin kicking out some money
to work real cases.

Like Marlo.

Like Marlo.

Shit like this actually goes
through your fucking brain?

If you don't want listen to me,
then listen to Lester.

He has all the wisdom you need.

Joke of it is, no one gives
a fuck about a serial killer,

not unless he's carving up
some pretty coed or some shit.

Sunpapers put the story
in their back pages.

Eh, you fucked up.

Yeah. Tell him.

No. I mean, if you want to do it right,
a straight-up strangle's not enough.

Not if it's some vagrant.

Sensationalize it.

Give the killer some fucked-up fantasy,

something bad, real bad.

It's got to grip the hearts and minds,

give the people what they want
from a serial killer.

- Lester, what the fuck?
- No. You're onto something.

I only need a few weeks
to pull down Marlo Stanfeld.

You fly this mess right,
you can give it to me.

Who gives a damn
if we fake a couple murders

that we're never gonna solve, huh?

The dead men don't care.

No one cares,

but if it's gonna get the bosses

to throw down
enough coin to do police work--

I'm out.
I'm out of here.

We got to give your killer a name.

We have to kill again.

Poppy, we've got to cook
one of these one night.

- Yeah, right on.
- Nice little dinner.

Omar, Omar, Omar!

Hold on, hold on, hold on!

All right, all right. Here you go.

- Ma?ana, poppy. Tomorrow, OK?
- Tomorrow.

Mana, poppy. No.

Mana, Alexis.

Hey, 'Naldo, cous got to find out
where they got honeynut, yo,

if they expect us
to call this spit o' land home.

Recib?a una llamada.

Tengo mala noticia.

Qu? pas??

Mataron a Butchie.

Subtitles:thewire-france

Synchronization: Sixe
Corrections: KB

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