It's over between Felicia and me. I know it. I've accepted the fact.
I went to her place last night. I could see the lights on.
I could hear her inside. But she won't come to the door.
She won't even come to the window. It's over. Finito!
I love nature. It fills me up. Trees, flowers and sky.
It's all ragweed, pollen and bird droppings.
The closest I want to get nature is that series on PBS.
In winter, things that are dead suddenly bloom in the spring.
What?
You step back and look at the cycle of nature, the miracle of it.
Excuse me?
You've got to believe in the possibility of miracles.
I'm hurting, Big Man, and you're talking about miracles.
I've lost my will to live and I can barely stand straight.
You know what's holding me up right now? Muscle memory, OK?
I know you're hurting, John.
If I could wish away the pain or take it on for you, I would.
"John"? Since when do you call me John?
Since when do you know I even have a first name?
A homeless couple.
This guy was out with his dog,
hunting for some truffles and morels, he comes across these two.
They were found holding hands?
Yeah. We recovered a handful of prescription bottles back at their tent.
One of them was on heavy-duty heart medicines.
- It's sad. - They weren't sad.
Look how they're sitting there, holding on to each other.
They sat down facing East, to catch the first light of day. They sit there,
and catch whatever wind will take them on the journey they're going on.
You're sure there's nothing left in the prescription bottles?
- Kay. - Stanley!
- I want you. I need you. - Me?
- I'm in love. - Well...
Have dinner with me. Tonight.
- Dinner? - Please.
- Well... - You pick. Some place romantic.
Stanley...
Are you still going with that Danvers guy who's Assistant State's Attorney?
OK, good! I want you both.
Where exactly is this conversation going?
- I'm asking you to double date. - Oh!
Yeah, what did you think? I mean, come on!
I'm going to bring a date for myself. This girl... woman, Linda.
We've been seeing a lot of each other, but this is the first real date.
So I want you and Danvers to come along and kind of, you know,
take the pressure off, take the edge off.
She's special. She is. I think I'm in love.
- Love? - Yeah.
- So, would you break bread with us? - Can I refuse?
You're gorgeous, you know that? You are.
Wherever you decide, that's where we're going to go.
I'm picking up the tab. I want it to be top drawer. Money is no object.
We'll have wine, caviar, flowers on the table.
Could you find a place with music and dancing?
Are you gonna dance?
Everything up to and including the Woolly Bully.
That I would pay to see!
- She's been strangled. - Mm-hm.
- Oh! Ed did it! - He did?
The note says. "Ed did it". Who's "Ed"?
He's Ed, that's my guess. Mine too.
Don't you love when the victim leaves a note ID-ing who it?
- She's very considerate. - Isn't she?
Where's the one who found her?
The next door neighbour? She's next door.
Go ahead.
And her name was Frandina? F- R-A-N...
...D- l-N-A. That's right. Angela Frandina.
And you have a key to her apartment?
Yeah, just in case, you know. But the door was wide open.
That's the reason I knocked. That's the reason I went in.
I was on my way home from work and Angela's door was wide open.
- You live here, Jeremy? - Sort of.
We've known each other since high school.
You work until 6:00am?
At a law firm, typing briefs.
Poor Angela.
I mean, she was such a wonderful person.
- Yeah. - Who's Ed?
Ed? Ed who?
Well, who's an Ed that Angela might know?
- Did Angela have a boyfriend? - Yeah. Plenty.
Jeremy... It's not like she did a lot of one-nighters.
She'd have a boyfriend for a couple of weeks, maybe a couple of months,
and then he'd be gone. She never seemed satisfied.
- So what did Angela do for a living? - She worked at a clothing store.
The Leather Chain, over on Broadway.
Why is she dead?
Ask for Tania. She's the manager.
- No! Get off! - Hey, wait a minute, wait a minute.
Stanley has a girlfriend?
I don't get the impression she can be officially classified as "girlfriend".
- Why wouldn't he tell me? - I'm sure he has his reasons.
Chill out. You're acting like a betrayed wife.
Hold on. You don't ride with him. You don't tell him your inner feelings.
You don't buy him his garlic bagels for his blood pressure.
He asked you on a double date? Know how many times I asked him?
Do you know what he does? He spits in my face.
He wants to go some place fancy. He wants flowers on the table.
He's popping for the whole thing.
Where is this extravaganza from which I'm excluded?
I'm not going to say. He didn't invite you. It's not for me to say, right?
- You've got to tell me. - I'm not going to talk out of line.
She's no Judas.
Judas had his good points. If it wasn't for him,
the show wouldn't have got underway in the first place. Kay?
Kay, please tell him, OK? Or he'll be whining all shift long.
You and Angela were friends, right?
I wouldn't call us friends, exactly. We shared similar fantasies.
Did Angela ever mention anyone that she was angry with, that she didn't like?
Angela didn't like a lot of people. She wasn't afraid to say so.
- But she would've liked you. - Great.
- Detective Pembleton, are you married? - Er... yeah.
Wouldn't your wife look just fabulous in that?
Why, yes. Yes, she would.
- Feel this. - Oh, that's nice.
There's nothing like the feel or smell of new leather.
- It's horsehide. - Horsehide?
- Like Mister Ed and Sea Hero? - Uh-huh.
Horsehide is warmer, so that when you're riding your bike,
you can wear this and nothing underneath.
- Here. Try it on. - Yeah, this and the chaps!
Just cos you're working doesn't mean you can't have fun.
- Yeah, Tim. Come on, try it on. - No! I said no, Frank, all right?
OK. You can't blame a girl for trying to make a sale, can you?
It depends on what she's selling.
- Who's Ed? - Ed's her boss.
The owner of this place?
No. Her other boss, from her other job. Angela worked two jobs.
- She had bills to pay. - What's Ed last name?
- I don't know. - What was her other job?
- She answered phones. - You mean at the phone company?
- No, one of those 900 numbers. - The Home Shopping Network?
- She talked dirty to people. - I beg your pardon?
You know... She gave phone sex.
After Dr Blythe, I thought we'd finished with Bolander's love songs.
I want the paperwork on that double suicide.
I don't care if it's in rhyming couplets, I want it finished.
- It's finished. It's on my desk. - Then it should be on my desk.
I've got to get Stanley to sign it.
I'm getting hell from the bosses because of your sloppy paperwork.
I don't need that on top of everything else.
My point is, he's acting strange.
- Munch... - Do you know how he's dressing?
He's wearing a tie today that has design and colour.
He's got socks that stay up over his ankles.
Yesterday we stopped in traffic, he gets our of the car and dances!
Out of the clear blue sky, he's doing the damn Hokey Pokey in midday traffic.
I'm a civil servant. I can't afford to be embarrassed in public.
Munch!
The report, on my desk, at the end of the shift. Understood?
- Where is my old Stanley? - Oh, my God!
I can't face the day unless I know he's going to be more miserable than me.
It's out of whack. You gotta do something.
Like what?
- Order him to be miserable again. - Oh, stop!
You're the boss. It's for the common good.
It's a public safety issue. The guy's dancing in traffic.
There has to be something on the books to forbid happiness. It's unprofessional.
Those sensitivity sessions have come back to haunt me.
I knew that something bad would come from those sessions.
I thought maybe Bayliss, maybe Lewis, maybe even you.
But never, ever Stanley.
You want your paperwork? Give me back my old Stanley.
- Send the Big Man in here. - That's all I ask.
How are you doing, Ma'am? Baltimore City Police.
Yes, I'm blonde. Yes, Oh, I am jealous.
I just hate seeing you with all those other girls.
My parents don't know either. This is our secret. Here, on the beach.
No... I don't know...
I can't find the Cold Shower script.
Oh! I like it when you let me see it...
You must be very proud. You've got quite an operation here.
I got 30 women working for me, three shifts around the clock.
And a couple of guys, because that side of the business is picking up.
The sleaze business, right, Ed?
We deal in fantasy.
Oh...
This is what my boys and girls use. It's a script.
Believe me, I know. Without a script, things go all over the place.
It's a lie, Ed. You're working from a script.
You're cheating your customers. There's got to be a statute against this.
We've got laws against smoking, but we've got no laws against this?
Read the script. Go ahead, look at it.
There's not a dirty word in there. It's all verbs - push, pull, jam...
And pronouns - it, you, me... I dare you to tell me
if that doesn't sound like a basketball game on TV.
Angela Frandina is dead. - What?
- She was found murdered this morning. - She was strangled.
Oh my God!
I don't believe it. What you're saying is obscene.
Angela tells us that you killed her. Here.
- With this note she says it? Me? - "Ed did it".
That's what she writes. "Ed did it".
- Angela didn't write that note. - Oh!
This is her handwriting. That's how Angela signs her name.
What you've got in that bag is not Angela's handwriting.
- Angela's is big, like Valentine's. - I'd like to hold onto this.
Yeah, help yourself.
- Did Angela have any boyfriends? - Sure.
Any boyfriend that wanted her dead?
Well...
Chris Novoselic,
her last boy toy, was... weird.
- What made him weird? - He always wore chains and leather.
- He worked in a club on Fayette Street. - What club?
I don't know. The one where they tie each other up and whip each other.
What the hell's the name of that place? The Eve of Destruction.
Oh, yeah. The Eve of Destruction, sure.
Who'd want a pretty girl like that dead?
You know, I expect her to walk in the door any minute.
Jesus! It's almost time for her shift. If she's dead, I have to get a replacement.
Where the hell am I going to get somebody at the last minute?
She was a real favourite with the lunch crowd and the rush hour.
She really loved those car phone freaks.
E-D. E-D. Eve of Destruction. Ed.
No, no. Eve of Destruction is E.O.D.
Not necessarily. "Ed did it". Someone who works or frequents there...
Frank, this note is a red herring to throw us off.
Somebody left it for us to find.
You know something? Everyone keeps saying how normal Angela was.
How wonderful she was.
Well, if she is so wonderful, what is she doing working in a dump like that?
Wonderful. I don't know. How did she end up being strangled?
- How old is she? - 26.
- How old? - 26, all right?
- I should have my head examined. - You should.
- She'll end up breaking your heart. - Thanks.
- I appreciate your good wishes. - You're blind, Stanley.
That's what love is supposed to do.
- I wish you could see yourself. - How about you see yourself?
- Me? - Yeah, you! I mean, you!
What's going on with you? What have you got better?
Your wife died seven years ago and you are still grieving.
I don't mean any disrespect here, all right?
But it's seven long years, and what is going on with you?
I... I have not... I'm not grieving.
You are still dating the same two women from five years ago.
One of them to take to dinner at Dalasio's every Friday night.
The other one you take for a ride every Sunday, out to the Shore.
You are still at the funeral.
- I have just not found the right person. - Yeah, and you're not going to.
Because you're comfortable being the same miserable sonofabitch
that you were the day that she died.
I'm happy.
I'm happier than I can ever remember being.
I don't know. Maybe I don't quite fit in the picture frame. OK, not quite.
At my age, what am I going to be but a long shot?
Wow! I think this is all terrific.
Man, I'm jealous.
I'd be jealous too. I got lucky.
- How lucky you mean? - Not that lucky.
No, I haven't kissed her yet.
But I thought maybe tonight, after dinner...
After dinner? Oh!
Oh, man. Stanley, I'm pleased for you.
I'm pleased and jealous.
And my only advice to you is...
use a rubber.
Either it's murder or this library has a very strict overdue book policy.
Let's go chat with our star witness.
- Miss Newdow... - Mrs Newdow.
Everyone always assumes librarians are old maids.
Sorry. Do you mind telling us your story, please?
The man who got shot and the man who shot the man who got shot were talking.
Did they come in with each other?
No. And I don't think they even knew each other.
But they were having a conversation. I had to tell them to shush once.
- Were they arguing? - No, not at all. Very friendly.
The man who shot the man who got shot
asked to borrow the man who got the shot's pen. Oh, sure, very polite.
Then he went back to his table,
scribbled something down on a pad and returned the pen.
This happened several times. The third time,
the man who shot the man who got shot,
told the man who got shot that he really liked his pen and would like to buy it.
The man who got shot said,
"It's just a dollar 49 pen and it's the only one I have.
"You can buy one anywhere."
The man who shot the man who got shot took out a gun and shot him.
He just kept on firing. It was very noisy.
I ducked down behind the counter. Suddenly there was silence.
I stayed down here a long while. I wasn't sure if the man had left yet.
- There was no arguing, no fighting? - None.
Are you saying that...
I'm saying that the only reason he blew him away
was over a dollar 49 pen.
No, it wasn't rape.
- Nothing under her fingernails? - Nothing to indicate a struggle.
Her nails were clean of blood, hair and skin tissue.
- But there was the presence of semen. - Consensual sex.
I don't know about that. I only know there wasn't any fight.
Maybe this guy held a gun to her head.
How many autopsies have you been through and still you never pick it up?
- What? They're ligature marks. - From a belt.
A belt with distinctive pattern, of either metal studs or hard, glassy beads.
OK, so we find the belt, we find the killer.
I'll slice her open and check the hyoid bone in her neck.
Do you want to take odds that it's broken?
- That's all right, but have a ball. - Will, the knife, please.
There's got to be more to this than a lousy five and dime ink pen.
Maybe not. Remember that kid who stabbed his younger brother over...
Yeah, sneakers.
Baltimore, home of the misdemeanour homicide.
- What's the body's name again? - Max Zintak.
- Zintak? - Yeah.
I don't know...
We run his name on the computer and see if he comes up a drug twirler.
- Who? Max Zintak? - Yeah. Who else?
Meldrick, when you see a horse with stripes on it, you call it a zebra.
What is that bit of Neapolitan logic supposed to mean?
I'm the one who's always thinking about conspiracies,
always looking for something more than what's there.
But this is a murder that is exactly what it is.
It's a man who shoots another man over a pen.
If the guy wanted the pen bad enough to kill for it, why would he leave it here?
Sorry to keep you waiting. Where were we?
Frank!
Let's see, you were...
You were saying Angela first started coming here about three months ago.
That was the first time I noticed her.
Some people come in, hide in the shadows. Just wanting to watch.
- Watch what? - Whatever goes on on any given night.
Wherever your imagination can take you.
So you and Angela got involved.
- For about a month. - Right.
- She was quite a gal. - Why did you break up?
- Why does anybody break up? - Hey, pal, we want some answers.
If you don't give me these answers,
I'll slap some cuffs on you, take you downtown and knock you around!
If you do that, I might have to kiss you.
- Whoa! - Get back, Frank!
It's all right. You push me around. You've got power, don't you?
You can shove anyone around all you want.
You cuff me, yell at me. I get scared.
That's what this scene is, Chief.
Only difference between you and me is your badge.
You play it for real. Me...
I'm only a skinpop in a fantasy.
We let each other know when we've gone too far.
It's play-acting. It's pretend!
Angela Frandina had a leather belt around her throat.
She is not acting. She is dead!
She didn't understand there have to be limits.
That's why I stopped.
Tell me that you don't find all this porno stuff,
all this phone sex and S and M stuff disgusting.
Well, Bayliss, that's just the way of the world. It's been this way forever.
In Pompeii, they found written on the walls,
"A n vere fama susrrat grandia te medii tenta vorare viri."
It's a long, roundabout way of saying "fellatio".
Saint Ignatius High, New York City.
Yeah, I had to do something to make Latin class interesting.
Granted, perversion has existed since the beginning of time.
We see it everywhere. But that doesn't mean that I am willing to accept that.
Well, there are people who think it's perverted
for a person of your colour and my colour to sleep together.
No, Frank. I'm not talking about prejudice.
What I'm talking about is kinky sexual acts.
Dehumanising acts between two human beings, all right?
Sex is love. Period. This I believe.
Yeah, right! So a beautiful woman passes you on the street.
You smile at her, she smiles back. You don't think about marriage.
You think about her in a French maid's outfit...
- No, I don't think that way, Frank. - You're either a liar or a moron.
If you're a liar, fine. You've got a chance.
But if you're a moron, then you're a bore.
I'll have to shoot you to put you out of your misery.
Wait. I don't think dirty, so I can't understand the criminal mind, is that it?
I don't want to kill someone,
so I can't get into the killer's head.
I don't think about molesting some child,
so I can't investigate Adena Watson's murder. Is that it?
- You really are a moron! - No, I'm not a moron!
We're all guilty of something.
Cruelty, or greed, or going 65 on a 55 mile per hour zone.
But if you want to think of yourself as the fair-haired choirboy, you go ahead.
All right, OK. So what are you saying?
I'm saying that you, Tim Bayliss, you've got a darkness inside of you.
You've got to know the darker, uglier sides of yourself.
You've got to recognise them so they're not sneaking up on you.
Love them, because they are part of you.
Along with your virtues, they make you who you are.
Virtue isn't virtue unless it slams up against vice.
So consequently your virtue is not real virtue.
Until it's been tested. Tempted.
Meldrick, I got a positive ID on the fingerprints from that pen.
Aside from the late Mr Zintak,
we have a thumb and a forefinger print of a Mitchell Forman.
He's got a couple of disorderly conduct...
- Any drug arrests? - No, no.
- But he spent time in Spring Grove. - Spring Grove?
- Insane asylum. - You don't say insane any more.
- You say mental health disorder. - Yeah...
And you don't say asylum any more, you say, er... diagnostic centre.
- The nutcase did time in a loony bin. - You got it.
- Maybe this'll explain what went down. - Not really.
I've got a current address on Forman. Come on, let's go wrap this thing up.
You know, Crosetti, my grandmother gave me this pen.
Before she went into surgery for the last time, she took my mother's hand
and she said, "Buy Meldrick a gold pen."
- I love this pen. - Are you serious?
I love this pen, but not enough to die for it.
- I surrender. No more. - Gluttons for punishment, all of us.
You'll regret those marinated sweetbreads with truffles and garlic.
I don't want to hear about it later on.
How can you still be mad at me? You had two crème brulees.
You have a very delicate stomach. And I'm not mad.
Ahem...
You and Stanley are practicing a duet, huh?
Yeah, over at the Peabody. Handel's Passacaglia.
- Stanley on cello, me on violin. - When can we hear it?
- Never. - No, not never.
- I can't get the bowing right. - You will, when the moment's right.
Right now, you're still worried about the tension in the strings.
You're afraid you'll miss the moment when the bow should draw across.
You're scared the music will come from your head and not from your heart...
Every fairy tale has its nightmare, and this is mine.
De gustibus to you, pal. Just sign off on the double suicide,
so I can slink back into the night.
Maybe I'll put my name on that list of deaths.
- Now there's an idea. - Are you Munch?
- I have to plead the Fifth on that. - Sit down.
Am I allowed?
We're just getting through here. There's nothing but dirty dishes.
Can we have a check, please?
I'm the concierge.
My husband was the concierge, but he died, so now I'm the concierge.
- Er, do you know when Mr... - Forman.
... will be back? - Don't know if he's ever coming back.
- Is he married? - Yeah, sure.
Has he ever been married? Do you know that?
I doubt it, but anything's possible, right?
- Does he have any family at all? - I don't know.
- How long has he been living here? - 15, 16 years.
And you don't know if he has any family?
I don't pry into my guests' lives. I give them a clean room,
a bath down the hall and free use of the ice machines. That's all.
Miss Prince, do you know that when Mr. Forman shot Mr. Zintak,
he left the pen sitting on the table? He didn't even take it.
Don't that seem odd to you?
Look, say what you will about Mitchell Foreman, he pays his rent on time, OK?
He's an honest man.
He wanted to buy the pen, the guy said no, so he left it there.
He would've never, ever stolen that pen.
Yeah, but has he ever killed for a pen before, Miss Prince?
Er, would you mind if we had a look in his room?
- Sure. - OK.
Damn goat roper!
- Pens. - Oh!
Thousands of pens, Crosetti.
Look at 'em.
It's a lot of pens. A lot of pens!
Hi.
Didn't I see you at the Eve of Destruction last night?
Let's just get this over with, OK?
- Can you show me a leather belt? - What kind?
One about two inches wide with studs or beads.
Hmm... I sell a lot of belts, but that one only comes with this kind of jacket.
OK, bingo. This is the same kind of belt. Metal studs in a diamond pattern.
Did you ever sell one of these jackets to Chris Novoselic?
Novoselic? That jerk? He's too cheap.
What about Ed Grady?
I wouldn't even let him in my store. I'm very particular about my customers.
Did Angela ever buy one of these jackets for herself or for a friend,
you know, with an employee discount?
Yeah, she bought one of these. For Molly whats-her-name?
- Sullivan? - Yeah, her neighbour.
Molly was very particular about this jacket.
This receipt from the Leather Chain shows you used your credit card
to purchase a black, leather motorcycle jacket.
Yeah, the jacket was a present for Jeremy.
Jeremy? Your boyfriend?
- Where is Jeremy now? - He's out.
The jacket was for his birthday. He loves that jacket.
- He says it brings him luck. - Is he wearing the jacket this evening?
No, he's at dinner with his grandparents. He's wearing his suit.
- Would you show us this lucky jacket? - Sure.
- It's hanging... - Is this it?
- Here it is. Beautiful, huh? - Uh-huh.
- It's horsehide. Horsehide's warmer... - Yeah, we heard.
Where is the belt that goes through this jacket?
- The belt? - Didn't the jacket come with a belt?
- It did. Where is the belt? - Maybe Jeremy lost it.
I'll kill him if he did.
We have the City of Angels, Los Angeles.
Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly Love.
And now, Baltimore, the City of the Broken-Hearted.
She asked me to marry her. Twice. She asked me.
But I love Felicia beyond the moment.
I love her for all of eternity. And so I know, she's too young, I tell her.
And here I see you, dallying with Linda... It is Linda, isn't it?
Mm-hm.
My heart sinks to the floor to see your youth, your fleeting youth.
Come Autumn... And Autumn does come, doesn't it, Kay?
...you'll be sitting in that big bay window of yours...
What bay window?
- Or some window. - Oh, yeah.
The rains will be falling, those first hard, rains of the season,
and you'll wonder what exactly it was that broke you and Danvers up.
Wait a minute.
You know what I'm saying. I can tell by your tone.
You've been in that window looking down.
Everyone will be outside, holding hands, being in love,
and you'll wonder why you and Danvers are now just "good friends".
And you'll be standing somewhere by yourself and there will be that song.
That song. It doesn't matter when you hear it, but when it comes on,
it will make you think of all those silly things you did together.
You'll break up, get back together again. Break up, get back together.
Call if off for good.
Find yourself sitting up in bed next to her on one last desperate evening,
and saying to yourself "I miss her."
And she's laying in bed next to you, thinking the same thing about you.
Munch, if you don't shut up, and shut up fast, I'll gut you.
The truth hurts, doesn't it Stanley?
God, life is so depressing. Love is hopeless.
- Kay, I'll take you home. - No. No, Ed.
I need to be alone tonight. Good night.
Thanks a lot, Munch.
Come on, Linda, let's go, too.
I'll deal with you in the morning. Don't look forward to it!
Stanley, we can't just leave him. Come on.
Someone would write my life story. I am Ahab's orphaned son.
Mr Forman, what I need right now
is I need to talk to you about a shooting.
- I did it. - Yeah, I know that.
- That's why I came here... - I know.
...to turn myself in. But now I've changed my mind.
No, Mr Forman! Listen to me, Mr Forman. Please look at me.
Please concentrate. Listen to me.
- I wanted the pen. - I know that.
- I offered to pay for the pen. - I know that. I know.
- I loved that pen. - I know you did, Sir.
But let me make you a deal. Look at me, please.
You come down off this ledge here, and I will write your whole life story.
- I'll put it all down for you. - Really?
- I promise. I will not miss a word. - What kind of pen would you use?
How about this one right here.
- Oh, very nice. - Yeah.
OK, now we're going to get down. OK, Mr Forman?
- OK. - Here you go, here you go.
- You understand your rights? - No sweat.
- Jeremy, where were you last night? - Last night? With my girlfriend, Molly.
Last night Molly was working. Where were you, Jeremy?
I don't remember.
Jeremy, where is your birthday present?
- What present? - The black, leather motorcycle jacket.
- It's at Molly's house. - Where's the belt?
- You want to know about the belt? - Hm-mm.
I lost it. I don't know where. I think somebody must've stolen it.
Someone stole your belt? And left the jacket?
That's what I think happened.
You lost your leather belt around the neck of Angela Frandina.
What? No, come on.
You put it around her neck, and you strangled her with it.
- No. - Yeah, you did.
- No... - You were there, Jeremy.
You were there.
I was there, but it wasn't murder. She told me to put the belt around her neck.
- I'd have never thought of that. - You just did what she asked, right?
Yeah. I went to see Molly. I forgot she was working.
Angela is hanging in the doorway. She invites me in.
We're talking about this and that.
And she tells me about doing that phone sex stuff. I mean, man!
And she tells me to close my eyes,
and she starts doing it in my ear. It's real sexy.
She grabs me, kisses me.
So we start kissing, messing around. Then she tells to slap her.
- She asked you to hit her? - Yeah.
I told her I didn't hit women, I couldn't.
Then she takes the belt from my jacket and starts doing a strip show for me.
She's taking off her clothes and doing stuff to herself with the belt.
- Get to the point. - We started going at it.
She's telling me, "Put the belt around my neck." And then, "Pull the belt tighter."
We start really going at it and she's telling me, "Pull it tighter."
I'd never done sex this way before. I lost control.
- OK, OK... - I got swept up in it, it wasn't me...
I said enough, all right? OK?
You're under arrest for the murder of Angela Frandina.
- She made me do it! - Made you, huh? Made you?
How?
Angela was tough, you know?
She was tough, you know?
To be honest, we never really liked each other.
Go ahead. I won't be long.
Take your time. Not that at your age you have much choice.
- You're a funny guy. - I'm funny to you?
- Yeah. - Did you hear what I said tonight?
I heard every word. But giving you comfort,
would be like cuddling a pit bull. You wouldn't know how to act.
Leaving you speechless is the cruellest thing anyone could do you. Am I right?
That's what Felicia did.
Fort McHenry. Used to come here on field trips when I was a kid.
- Yeah? - Yeah, I know the whole story.
War of 1812. Francis Scott Key. "Star-Spangled Banner."
Big deal! I mean, what are we doing here anyway?
Did you know that in World War One, this was used as an Army hospital?
Thousands of young men with wounds fresh from Château-Thierry and Argonne
came here to recuperate or die.
There was one guy who arrived, his mind clouded with mustard gas.
- His right arm and leg were blown off. - Ouch!
He came here despairing because life as he'd known it had changed forever.
But then he met a beautiful woman.
They fell in love, got married and lived happily ever after.
- Really? That's great. Who cares? - Well, I do, for one.
They were my great-grandparents. Love is a surprise.
The end of love usually isn't, but falling in love is always a surprise.
- Linda... It is Linda, isn't it? - Yes.
- You're a very nice person. - Thank you.
And obviously you're are capable of the impossible by making Stanley happy.
But your homespun homilies don't play with me. I'm a homicide cop.
Nothing surprises me.
- Nothing? - Absolutely nothing.
- What the hell was that? - I don't know. Your heart, maybe...
- Wow! Look at that. - Yeah, look at that.
Wow! Look at that.
You know, Stanley, this woman, I've got to respect her.
Why she goes out with you I'll never know. As far I'm concerned,
your good fortune hangs up there with the great mysteries of life,
alongside the whereabouts of the lost tribes of Israel,
and the true meaning of "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds."
I think I'll go look for a couple of the lost tribes right now.
- I'm sorry about him. - He's a hoot, Stan.
- You just don't get him at all, do you? - No, I don't.
But then again, I don't want to.
Whoa!
- The guy was obsessed with pens. - Uh-huh.
Obsessed enough to kill somebody over one.
Is that any worse than killing someone over a car, or over a woman?
But you could love a car, Gee. You could love a woman.
Why can't someone love a pen?
Come on. Piece of crap.
- What's up, Beau? - Brand new and it doesn't write.
Have you got another one?
Yeah, I've got one.
- That's a beauty. - Do you like that pen, Beau?
I love this pen.
Keep it.
- Hi. - Hi.
I hear you got the guy who killed Angela.
- Yeah. How did you know that? - In our community, word travels fast.
- Ah... - Here, a present.
- Oh, no... I can't. - Please, accept it. As a thank you.
It's nice to know that if the same thing happens to me, you'll be out there.
I don't know how can you say that?
If you know that you could be killed then why do you keep doing it?
Believe it or not,
when I've given myself over completely to the control of someone else,
I'm free.
- Free? - Yeah.
Here.
- Come on, try it on. - No.
- Yes. - No.
Yes!
OK.
Hmm...
- Hmm... - It's you.
- Hmm... - See you.
Hmm...
# Toot toot, hey, beep beep
# Bad Girls
# Talking about the sad girls
# Sad Girls
# Talking about the bad girls
# See them out on the street at night, walkin'
# Picking up on all kinds of strangers, if the price is right
# You can't score if you're pocket's tight
# But you want a good time... #