Donnelly has been prepped.
As soon as you're through,
he will deliver a statement taking full responsibility,
accept 30 days on the street, a year's probation,
but like I told you, his benefits will be left intact.
Still doesn't sit right,
spending his last three years riding a desk.
The sergeant knows what he did was wrong.
Yes, and we all know this mess runs far deeper
than Sergeant Donnelly. Commissioner,
it's best if we just cauterize the situation and move on.
Let me handle this. I'll handle it.
It's my job.
Commissioner!
Commissioner, what disciplinary measures are gonna be taken?
Commissioner, how many officers were involved
in the alleged incident?
Something tells me you're not gonna
let me leave without me giving you a name.
I hate to lay the blame on any one officer,
but perhaps...
well, perhaps the threat of being singled out
is what keeps us honest on the job.
Oh.
I can get a booth if you want to scheme in private.
We're not scheming. No, we're just planning.
Yeah. Yeah, your sister
might have an opportunity in the music industry.
Have you ever heard of a music producer,
a Julian Rutherford?
No.
He worked with Amy Winehouse. Okay.
And he's looking for a new girl singer.
So...
I'm gonna audition.
Well, I can sing,
and remember you got me that guitar?
Yeah, no, it's just, uh, it's just been a while.
Yeah, but you can't buy that kind
of natural smoke in her voice.
No. And Julian offered, so,
if nothing else, she can make a new friend.
Yeah.
I'll see you after work? Yeah.
Okay.
So this, uh, this Julian Rutherford,
where'd you meet him?
Rehab. Rehab.
You know, Mom, Agnes is doing very well.
And it's hard to forget
that you were the one
who always wanted to be the singer.
Yeah, where do you think she gets her talent from?
She's vulnerable, and so are you.
And, to be honest,
I've seen this before.
No, no, no, sweetie,
this is not just a pink cloud again.
You and your sister
have finally given me a reason to stay sober.
And this opportunity
is real.
Just you promise me
that you will look out for her, all right?
I wouldn't dream of doing otherwise.
Not now.
Commissioner's Office requested both your personal files.
Owen,
you've been shortlisted for a promotion
to detective, second grade.
Arroyo,
you're on list to make first.
Now, as far as I'm concerned,
you both earned the bump and the raise,
but my recommendation doesn't mean it's a lock,
- just that you're on the list. - That's great.
When are the promotions announced? Two weeks.
So until then, you work your cases
and you keep your noses clean.
Thanks, Lieu.
Are you in trouble?
Is it ever just "good morning" from you?
Good morning.
Yes, it is,
and I am very proud to say
that I am now in line
to make second grade.
Don, that-that's amazing.
Congratulations.
And Arroyo is in line to make first grade.
Two guys in the same squad looking at grade.
Well, yeah, it's rare for both guys to make it.
Mm-hmm.
And if one of the detectives on the list
were a backbiting, grandstanding,
credit-hogging, press-hungry glory hound...
Like Arroyo... He might be inclined
to play a few dirty tricks
to make his colleague look not as worthy.
But regardless
of how anyone else plays,
I'm going to be above it
because if it does happen for me then,
it's going to be on the merits.
Got a fresh one
at a pipe foundry on 26th and Ninth.
Owen, you're up to catch. There's going to be eyes on it.
Victim's a city councilman, Isaac Nevel.
Get moving. You'll want to beat the news crews.
Hey, the vic is Councilman Isaac Nevel
of 621 East 87th Street.
Which is an incredible location with great resale value.
Foreman found him when the place opened up at 8:00.
Multiple gunshots to the head.
Close range.
Ah, not a lot of blood.
A dump job.
I've heard the guy's name; he's got a good reputation.
He's in lockstep with the mayor
on social reform and anticorruption.
Industrial site.
Double tap to the head.
Anybody else want to say it?
Mob hit.
We'll get started on the canvass
and surveillance.
Hey, Don.
This case is huge, man. It's big enough
for both of us to get our grade bumps if we close it right.
And with so many eyeballs,
the last thing we need is to gum each other up, am I right?
The thought never crossed my mind.
If you need anything,
let me know.
Smoke screen.
He's throwing out phony sincerity.
Never mind him.
We're just gonna work this case, Junior.
Junior,
laser focus.
All right.
I don't trust that look.
What look?
♪ Golden Boy 01x08 ♪ Scapegoat Original Air Date on April 9, 2013
== sync, corrected by elderman ==
♪
My dad saw this coming.
Said he kicked beehives
for a living, and that one day...
He just knew it.
And you were his chief of staff, is that right?
I should have protected him better.
You did everything you could.
So what kind of beehives
are we talking about here? Come on, guys.
He wasn't found in a Dumpster,
which would indict the sanitation contractors,
or wrapped in a tablecloth, which would say
linen delivery. Tyler,
they're trying to help.
Look, piping is Alex Zelichenok.
I've heard that name.
He's a, he's a Russian mobster.
Yeah, there was a long-standing beef
between him and my dad.
Any recent threats?
No.
Mrs. Nevel, when did you last see your husband?
Yesterday morning when he went to the district office.
He always got in around 7:30.
I'd always get there an hour before
to prep the morning brief.
And when did you last see him?
I left the office around 9:00,
but my dad was still there.
Long hours. Anything unusual?
He never left work unfinished.
Paying back for all this.
He was always atoning for his years
as a Wall Street raider.
Can I ask you a very touchy question?
But it's just to rule you out. Can you account
for your whereabouts, each of you,
10:00 p.m. last night?
Well, I was here with Tyler until midnight.
I live in Bay Ridge.
I was troubleshooting their Wi-Fi
while my dad was getting murdered.
I should've been with him.
O.C.C.B. said they had this Zelichenok
under surveillance on a RICO case.
So I called, they sent me his address.
Look at you, you're already dreaming of headlines.
You barely heard the guy's name before you cleared out of there.
No, I just know Zelichenok
had a public beef with a councilman.
And you think Arroyo might beat us to him.
Well, let's just work it right.
Zelichenok.
They beat us to him.
Unbelievable.
Arroyo's going to do anything he can to steal that collar.
He's the kind of guy... All right, Junior.
That's enough. It's fine.
Anyone ever say
you dress like a gangster?
Well, I guess you'd know,
right, Mr. Zelichenok?
Did you know that Councilman Isaac Nevel
was found murdered this morning?
Yeah, I heard it on the radio.
Unless there is a law
against smiling, I've done nothing wrong.
He was quoted as saying your Brooklyn foundry
was leaking poison into the Gowanus.
Which was gonna run you, what,
about a quarter of a million in fines?
A rumor. That was printed
in The New York Times.
Along with your wish that he'd get eaten by rats.
Environmental problems, rigged bids,
price fixing.
What, but now that he's dead, it's business as usual?
There's always gonna be
some crab-infested city council guy
who thinks he can clean up New York.
And they love picking on me.
Where were you last night between 8:00 and midnight?
I was at my nephew's wedding.
I paid.
People saw you there?
700 friends and family.
And there was an elephant there, too.
I'm sure he didn't forget.
Names and numbers of people
to back you up.
But if you crack one more joke, it's about to get nasty in here.
Zero surveillance at the foundry where we found the DOA,
but the councilman's phone dump came back.
Interesting stuff.
I'm gathering the troops.
Well, what do you got?
We'll fill Arroyo in later.
Councilman Nevel took a call at 8:12 last night,
approximately two hours prior to his death,
from a Margot Dixon, a reporter at the City Light.
It's a downtown weekly.
Yeah, I know her work.
Well, we should go talk to her. Yeah.
You want me to fill Arroyo in now,
or should I give you a ten-minute head start?
I heard you're both
up for promotion.
It's not a competition.
But, uh, give us a ten-minute head start.
Thanks.
Margot Dixon, Detective Walter Clark.
Wow, I feel like I'm talking to a celebrity.
I reported on your shootout
outside that check-cashing store.
Yeah, I ran across it.
Uh, I bet you read all your press, huh?
No, not really, just certain articles stuck out.
We're here to talk to you
about Councilman Nevel.
Oh, because I met him last night?
You met him in person?
Yeah, I wanted to give him a chance
to respond to a piece I'm writing.
We met in Midtown Coffee Shop
at around 9:00.
He was shot in the head an hour later.
You didn't think to come and talk to us?
I was finishing my story.
It's become pretty timely.
What does it concern?
Personal withdrawals from the campaign coffers.
He barely finished one paragraph
of the article before he cut our coffee short and took off.
Isaac never made his name as a city reformer.
The fact that he would commit campaign fraud...
Is a hell of a scoop for a reporter on the metro desk.
And how'd you get turned on to the story?
Through an anonymous tip.
A letter.
Like, actual, solid mail.
And yes, I still have it.
Well, you gonna give it to us?
Or do we have to get a subpoena to get it?
Or we can avoid it. The thing is,
I think you owe me one, as I did not launch
four errant bullets into a crowd of commuters.
I said you fired four times. One was errant.
No, you didn't.
All right. Are we gonna work together or what?
It's at my apartment.
Let me just tell my editor I'm stepping out.
Laser focus.
As opposed to what?
Her? You're kidding, right?
Uh-huh.
Fine.
Where the hell's our esteemed colleagues?
Probably working the case.
Who you calling?
Nobody.
Somebody's looking for you.
Hey, Agnes.
I haven't seen your brother around.
I'm actually here to see you.
Julian Rutherford.
No record.
No liens or pending civil suits.
Quite a few nice cars registered in his name,
but as far as I can tell, he is who he says he is.
Okay.
That's good.
Hey, you mind not telling my brother you did this?
If you tell me why you're
running background on a stranger.
We got interesting parents, me and Walt.
Um, Mom's making a lot promises.
About this Rutherford?
And I wanted to make sure
she wasn't getting conned
by another dirtbag or just flat-out lying.
'Cause if she did that, Walt would send her packing.
Anyway, this is not your problem,
and I've already taken up too much of your time, so...
thank you.
It's all right.
The letter was like something out of a movie.
Typed, no return address,
Basically said to follow the money
and included an account number
and a password to access it.
Nevel cashed out of Wall Street with eight figures.
Why would he steal from his own campaign fund?
The letter indicated that the withdrawals
were actually made by his chief of staff.
What, his son Tyler?
Former members
of the councilman's camp implied
Tyler Nevel has no shortage of demons.
Gambling, drugs, prostitutes.
Hang on a second.
We ran Tyler. He's clean.
Or his pristine father cleaned up after him.
What the hell's this?
The lock's been busted.
Wait by the car.
Cover me, I'm taking the door.
All right.
Police! Show me your hands! Show me your ha...
I got it! I got him. Go around.
Police! Don't move!
You all right?
You almost got yourself killed, Don.
I almost had him.
All right, that should be it for now.
Should've gone to the hospital.
I don't need an X ray to know I got a bruised rib.
I'm fine.
You feel better if I lay down
and kick my paws up? I want you to get
this promotion more than anyone else,
but you got to be alive to appreciate it.
Hey, it's got nothing to do with a promotion.
Really? Don't let these glasses fool you.
I am still capable of chasing down a perp, you know.
"Follow the money"" And an account number.
This anonymous letter-- it's a hell of an indictment.
How far'd she get with this?
Well, the account is connected
to Councilman Nevel's campaign fund.
And there are suspicious withdrawals
made by the councilman's chief of staff and son, Tyler Nevel.
They're earmarked
for political consultants.
One's for $43,000.
I thought the son checked out.
Well, the time of the murder,
he said he was with his mom.
She confirms it, but Diaco's working
on confirming it independently.
And she's also got sources that say
that Tyler's into gambling and women.
Paying off debts with Daddy's campaign money.
Maybe the councilman was trying to smooth things over
with some low-life and ended up getting whacked for it.
Dixon's not going to give up these sources
without a fight, is she? No.
Confirm they're legit,
and then talk to Tyler.
All right.
Look, I'm sure you're going to fight
to protect your sources on Tyler Nevel.
Just... don't let us go chasing our tail, all right?
Look, as far as I know, they're legit.
Okay.
We're gonna need to get you to the precinct,
get some elimination prints,
but after this is all cleared out, we'll, uh...
we'll get an officer posted on your door.
I always thought I was a lot tougher than this.
Yeah, well...
it's easier when you train for it.
Thanks for bolstering my ego.
Mickey Mantle's signature bat,
signed by the Mick himself.
Wow.
Dad really loved the Yankees, huh?
He'd just sit there and admire his collection.
Took him back to stickball in Bensonhurst.
What about you, Tyler?
You a big sports fan? Yeah.
Catch a game.
Oh, you do more than that.
Little bird tells us you like to lay money on games.
Possibly big money.
You're a wealthy man, Tyler.
I'm a civil servant.
Your parents give you money?
No, it was cut off after college.
Look, my dad wanted me to work.
But you still had access to the campaign checkbook.
You laid down
43 grand to a consultant.
Who?
Hey. You want to do this here?
Or you want to do it down at the precinct, and we drag
your ass out in front of all those cameras downstairs,
humiliate you and your mother,
throw dirt on your father's memory,
and it'll all be on the 6:00 news. Okay.
I had a gambling problem, but it was all in the past.
Did you use campaign funds to get out of it?
And did your father find out about it?
You can't do this.
You can't tell me that I set my dad up to die.
What do you mean?
Set him up how?
I still owe.
I told my dad,
and he said he'd take care of it.
If he died trying to save me,
I'll never forgive myself.
So you still owe a bookie, then.
Yeah.
Name.
I got to take this.
Eddie Thorne.
How much you into him for?
$150... thousand.
Don.
I'll get patrol to watch Tyler,
but Lieutenant Kang wants us back.
He got a call from I.A.
Apparently you are under investigation.
They want to see you.
What?
Yeah.
Come on.
Detective Owen?
Sergeant Gary Carson, Internal Affairs.
What's this about?
We received an anonymous report,
you used a department vehicle
to conduct personal business.
Sometimes off-duty.
Somebody called in
anonymously
and said that I did that?
We went through the movement logs
and found some discrepancies.
Please. Have a seat.
Eddie Thorne is a local bookie.
He's got a sheet for assault, burglary...
We have a location on him? No,
but he wrote a lot of checks
to a bar on the Lower East Side--
it's called The Bottom Rung.
Oof. I know of it.
Get your tetanus shot.
Hey, boss,
I think maybe me and Deb
could probably go get this bookie.
I think me and Owen should pick him up
after he's finished with the I.A. meeting.
Just do it.
You know, it's, uh, crazy that Internal Affairs
just show up and slow me and Owen down, huh?
It's crazy. Is it really?
You know, I got to go get this guy,
so whatever bee just got caught in your bonnet
will have to wait. You really want to go there?
Gentlemen.
I just finished getting Ms. Dixon's statement.
She asked if she could hang around for a while.
She's feeling a little jittery about returning home.
What do we care?
Well, she's a reporter,
so unless you want to read about your grab-assing for a promotion
in the paper... let's cool it.
You know, if Thorne's a handful, we're
a little boxed in here. Backup wouldn't hurt.
We're good.
Always a comfort when you get cocky.
It's not cocky.
Confident.
Excuse me.
Have you seen Eddie Thorne?
Not in days.
Hey.
Eddie Thorne?
We got to talk to you.
Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Where you going, huh, scumbag?
You, numb-nuts,
just assaulted a police officer.
Confident, huh?
Stupid.
All right.
I'm telling you, I had no clue you guys were cops.
Usually the shield gives it away.
Save it.
Tell us about your relationship with Tyler Nevel.
Business associate.
You took his bets.
He was into you for 150 grand, am I correct?
You have a deal with his father, Councilman Nevel?
Councilman?
Yo, I'm just a little fish.
Tyler already told us that the councilman
came to talk to you about the debt.
We have telephone calls to yourself
from a pay phone-- likely the last in New York-- at a diner
near the councilman's field office,
placed just before he was murdered.
Did you see him last night?
I saw him, but I did not kill him.
What did he want?
He was all riled up.
He, he just came from meeting some reporter.
He was grilling me about a letter.
He wanted to know if you sent it?
I mean, come on.
Me? Why the hell would I do that?
Blackmail, goose him for the 150 grand
Tyler owed? Tyler lost
on college football from 7:00 Saturday morning
until the University of Hawaii kickoff.
Why would I jeopardize
such a terrible better who paid on time?
Where were you at 10:00 last night?
At home eating a Salisbury steak TV dinner,
watching highlights.
Anyone with you?
My grandma.
Wait, you live with your grandmother?
Yeah, she's, like, 92.
She's totally with it and she'll vouch.
Thank you for your cooperation.
All right, thank you.
I can't believe that son of a bitch Arroyo
sicced Internal Affairs on me.
Are you cleared or is it gonna be a jackpot?
I never took a department car for personal use in my life,
but, because somebody called in
and said that I did,
now we got to go through the motions.
I know,
but I got something we can be working on,
and I suggest we keep it quiet.
Hey, from now on, we keep everything quiet.
All right, Tyler Nevel was moving money
from the campaign to his personal bank,
and from there making payments to an account
at the SUNY Stony Brook Credit Union.
It's almost 100 grand.
Whose name's on the account?
The credit union won't I.D.
without a subpoena, but separately,
I found e-mails from Tyler
to a Stony Brook student e-mail account.
Her name is, uh,
Lucy Reyes.
Check it out.
"Please stop what you're doing.
You're threatening everything."
That's a long ride to Stony Brook
if this is a dead end.
Um, give me a sec, all right?
Yeah, yeah.
This is ominous.
Just private.
During your research,
did you come across the name Lucy Reyes?
You know, you have an interesting squad.
Lots of personalities.
And we're working on a very high-profile case.
We need to know if Lucy Reyes... Was who Tyler Nevel
was paying off at SUNY Stony Brook?
She wouldn't talk to me,
but I did some digging on her.
She has a fascinating family.
And time is kind of of the essence,
so if you could help us out... You want something from me,
I want something, too.
Hey.
I'm taking a ride to Stony Brook.
Lucy Reyes has Dominican mob connections.
So Margot's being cooperative, huh?
How come?
She can't resist my smile.
Right.
It's not what you think.
I didn't do anything wrong.
I think $100,000 is a lot of money
for an intern, Lucy.
And we understand you got family members
in organized crime.
Distant cousins.
And some first cousins who run numbers
and underground gambling.
Was Tyler paying off his debts
to your mobster family?
Is that why you're so well compensated?
My family has nothing
to do with our relationship.
During my internship,
Isaac and I...
became very close.
You were having an affair with the councilman?
We were in love.
And so this money
Tyler's been paying you,
that's so you keep quiet.
As long as I stayed away, I'd get monthly payments.
There were recent e-mails
from Tyler saying, "You got to stop doing this."
I couldn't stay away.
And then I screwed up.
Last week I went to their apartment.
His wife found out.
If I was gonna kill my husband for having an affair,
he would've been dead ages ago.
I knew about the infidelity for years,
not to mention the gambling and the drugs.
The reformer councilman.
Any reason you didn't think to mention it this morning?
I never said anything before
because I thought it would break my son's heart.
He worshipped his father,
but after the most recent affair with the intern,
I found out that Tyler had been enabling
my husband's filthy habits.
If Isaac got unwieldy,
Tyler would take the blame.
Who does such a thing to their own son?
Mrs. Nevel, is your son covering up for you
or are you covering up for him?
Are you certain he was with you
last night at 10:00 p.m.?
That's the last I'll say
until I've spoken to my lawyer.
Excellent. Thank you.
Was that the M.E.?
Yes, it was, but we're gonna do some digging on this
before we divulge it to the rest of the squad.
Clark and Owen are playing games.
Games that you started.
The grade comes with a hefty raise,
and we're talking about my livelihood here.
Yeah, Owen's, too, which you might have torpedoed
with that call to I.A.
I.A.? Are you serious?
Come on, who said I did that?
You know, without the fog
of our previous personal relationship,
I can see you got no problem getting ugly.
Are we gonna keep this between us?
Or do I run with it myself?
The M.E. says that the gunshots in Councilman Nevel's head--
delivered postmortem.
It was staged?
To look like a mob hit.
What was the actual cause of death?
Likely blunt force trauma
to the back of the head.
The M.E. recovered traces
or oil resin on the skull.
It's a synthetic polyurethane generally found on wood.
Getting conked on the back
of the head, that's what killed him.
All we got...
Who you calling? Our colleagues.
You want to play games, that's fine with me,
but I want no part of it, and if you try and stop me,
it'll be you getting conked on the head.
Detective Clark.
Hey, Clark, it's McKenzie.
All right, thanks.
Wood resin.
So maybe he hit his head
on a table or a chair or something.
Or maybe a baseball bat?
You, uh, you notice anything different about that collection?
I do.
If the councilman only admired his precious collection,
why is the bat now facing the opposite way?
Exactly.
Uh, sorry to keep you waiting.
Is there a development?
We need to take your father's autographed bat
as evidence.
What for? We suspect
the wood resin found on the bat is gonna match
the wood resin found on your father's head
from the blow that killed him.
So we're gonna take it down and print it and test it for DNA.
You know, you can wipe a bat down,
even wash it off, but it is very hard
to get rid of the DNA.
It's like a forensics gift
that won't go away.
You don't have a problem with us taking the bat, do you?
No.
I just, uh, I've got to, um...
I need to...
Where the hell is he?
Oh, he wouldn't. Come on.
Just stay away.
Just stay back.
I swear, I have absolutely nothing to live for.
That's not true, son.
Tyler, Tyler, look at me.
Look at me.
There's your side of the story.
Right now
it's the only chance we have
at finding out the truth here, okay?
And that's all anyb...
Look at me! Look at me, Tyler.
And that's all anybody wants.
Come on inside, son.
We're gonna talk about it.
We're gonna make it right.
I'm going to prison,
and you know it!
You know it!
Tyler, you can't say that for sure, all right?
I want you to relax. No, stop.
Stop. Listen to me.
I'm just... Don't.
I just want to talk to you, all right?
Don't come any closer! Don't. Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.
It's all right, it's all right, man.
It's all right, it's all right.
I want to help you. I swear to God I'll do it.
I know you will.
All right, but you just have to trust me.
All right, that's why I want you to look at me.
Tyler, look at me, okay?
Take my hand, man.
I want you to take my hand
and we'll be fine. Hold on, okay.
Just hold on, careful. I just want to help.
I never meant to hurt anyone.
I know you didn't.
Tyler!
Come on, Tyler.
Tyler!
Come on, son.
Not exactly what the doctor recommended for bruised ribs.
Come on.
Here we go, here we go.
Tyler, this is a chance
for you to set your record straight
for you
and for your family and for anyone else
who has been hurt by your father's lies.
What do you know?
Tyler, my father...
He was a liar and a cheat,
and there is only so far you can go
before you say enough is enough.
Is that why you sent the letter?
You said, "Follow the money.
Follow the account number."
You wanted him exposed.
I wanted to be free.
I thought, if his political career was over,
I'd finally be out from underneath him.
How'd it work?
He'd place bets through me,
buy drugs through me.
And the women?
I facilitated his infidelities.
Against my own mother.
Why?
Because he's your dad.
All right, how'd he end up dead?
Um... when he found out about the letter,
he came to me in a panic.
Said he was convinced the press was gonna find out about Lucy,
the affair, the payoffs,
and that we needed to bury it.
We needed to bury her.
He wanted you to kill her.
I told him that I couldn't do it.
Then he started shouting,
calling me a disgrace and a failure, and...
God, after everything I had done for him, and I just...
I just reached out for the nearest thing I could find.
The baseball bat.
I swung.
And before I realized what had happened...
he was dead on the floor.
You need to write it down for us, Tyler.
Okay.
Okay then, bye now.
What'd he say? What happened?
Well, Internal Affairs is gonna close the case
as unsubstantiated.
Great.
But because of their backlog,
it's gonna probably be another month before
the bosses can all sign off on it.
So you can't get promoted until they sign off, right?
I am out of contention for this cycle, yeah.
You know, if the press had been there
to see you save Tyler's life, you would be famous.
Don, you would be a first-grade detective.
Yeah, but that ain't why we do it, now, is it, Junior?
No.
I lost focus.
22 years I've been on this job, and I've been inclusive.
I've been part of a team.
And then today...
I was selfish.
No, no, no, no, no.
You were not selfish, Don, you understand?
You were just going after something that you deserve.
Yeah. And it almost got me killed.
All right, would I like to go home someday
and tell Maxine I made grade?
Fine. Yes, I would.
But until that time, I got to be about this work
for its own sake.
Because this other stuff here,
that's what keeps you up at night.
But just so you know, this is not over.
Ah...
Detective Clark.
Waste of a collar.
Now nobody gets the bump.
Do you ever worry about getting struck by lightning
or the wrath of God or anything at all?
No?
I didn't think so.
So close.
Hey, Ma, it's me again outside the diner.
Wasn't sure if you were on your way or...
Anyway... call me.
Agnes.
Hey. I must look like a mess.
Is it that Rutherford guy?
You know, I can rough him up for you.
It's a perk of the job.
My mom. She stood me up.
Wow, you do got a complicated family.
I can't believe I bought into the stupid story.
A waitress who dreams of being a star.
I mean, is there any worse cliché in this city?
Irish cop?
Hey, I was just about to go get something to eat.
You want to come with me?
Yeah, I'd like that.
Come on.
Didn't think you'd show up.
Well, you helped us, so I keep my word.
But first, there are some ground rules, all right?
Number one, no one can know the name of your source.
Okay, I'm pretty good about that. Number two, this isn't
about dragging anyone through the mud, all right?
Although there are people that deserve it,
this is about getting the truth out.
You're very principled.
You making fun of me?
No, no, I'm just absorbing the ground rules.
I'm tough but fair. You should know that.
Well, you weren't very fair about that shootout
that I was involved in.
I was making a point about police shootings in the city,
nonlethal options.
I went back to see where the round hit,
all right?
It was about head high, next to the staircase,
so if I'd fired about six inches further to the left,
my bullet would have gone into a crowded commuter, so...
so it keeps me up at night.
You know, the real you doesn't quite match up
with the persona in the papers:
tough guy, party boy.
Well, it might have once.
But I got someone teaching me otherwise.
His name's Don Owen.
I'm gonna start with him.
"The detectives of the 3-9 are a motley crew.
"A team of alphas clamoring for their share of the spotlight,
"but despite their competitive natures,
"this group of strong personalities share a single goal:
to put killers away."
I will give her that.
But this? Come on, lady.
Who the hell are you?
"One among them deserves to be singled out:
Detective Donald Owen."
Whoo! Oh!
"A veteran of 22 years, a true unsung hero..."
Just gonna read the whole thing, are you?
"...risking life and limb by literally hanging off
the edge of a building to save the life of a suspect."
As if you were the only one working the case.
Well, it is funny how justice always finds
a way to get done, ain't it?
Yeah.
It's not a bad picture either.
All right, that's enough.
Well deserved.
Thank you.
All right, wise-ass.
The jig is up. You responsible for this?
You and that Margot Dixon?
You deserve recognition, Don, you do.
Well, it's nice to be recognized.
But don't forget, that door swings two ways.
I take comfort in knowing I'm part of a team.
And a damn good one.
Perhaps it's the threat of being singled out
that keeps us honest on the job.
So if you want to blame someone
for the failure of this organization,
you can blame me.
Being singled out for good or bad makes officers forget
that we are part of a team...
34,000 strong.
An old friend of mine gave me that advice a long time ago,
and... maybe if he'd listened to it himself,
he might be here now... doing my job.
Any questions?
== sync, corrected by elderman ==