On the first day the frost takes
and there's a sheen of ice on the dugouts.
- And when you feel the wind coming down from the north, bringing the snow.
- Head out on horseback and there's a...
slanting of light from the east.
- Oh, I miss it, Son. I miss it terribly.
Yeah, so do I.
You all right?
- I don't know. Life is odd enough, but death, Son,
Lord God... they don't even give you a road map.
Everything comes under scrutiny.
- What brought this on? - I don't know.
Something in the air.
There's something stirring. Do you feel it?
Yeah.
You know, I've had, uh...
I've had some very odd dreams lately.
- About your mother. - Yeah. You?
Well, I'm dead, I don't dream.
So I don't know what this sensation is that I've got.
Athough it's very similar to when Walter Singlefoot
laced my tea with knick-I-knick,
then seemed to turn into a 12-foot alligator before my very eyes.
I don't know.
It feels like...
feels as though your mother is very close.
Very close.
- Fraser, I hope for your sake, you're talking to a fish.
- Hey, Ray. Hey, have a seat. I'll, uh, rig you up a line.
Caught anything?
- No, but, you know, ice fishing takes patience.
- You're going to need a lot of that, 'cause there's no fish in here.
- How do you know that, Ray? - 'Cause it's a city reservoir.
Drinking water... No fish.
Oh...
You O.K.?
Yeah, yeah...
Just, uh... - What?
I'm homesick.
Wait a minute. - What?
Hang on a second.
Yeah, here we go. - Set the hook, set the hook.
I got something.
Watch the drag, watch the drag.
Something big. He's hit.
- Yeah, yeah, yeah! Yeah, yeah, yeah!
Nice fish.
- Ever since I can remember, I associated fishing with death.
Yeah, well,
you catch a fish, the fish dies, then you eat the fish.
As a boy, I was in a camp,
and the guy who ran the camp was a fisherman... of sorts.
He would throw hand grenades into the pond,
and when the fish came up,
belly up, stunned, he'd just scoop them up with a net.
- What was this, some sort of summer camp or something?
No.
Auschwitz.
Oh, come on, guys,
I didn't mean to...
Well, what else do we know about this man?
His name is Cartwright.
He has a couple of weapons charges,
and associated with bad people. - Very bad,
judging from the way he died.
Shot with a small rifle, probably manufactured in old Czechoslovakia,
and the bullet tipped with thallium... deadly poison.
Probably manufactured in Bulgaria.
So, there you go... ballistics.
- Looks like he had a meet set for tonight.
I agree.
Shall we?
- Look, Mort, I'm sorry, I didn't realize that, uh...
Come on, Ray.
I didn't want you to feel sorry.
I find life interesting.
Even death I find interesting.
But fishing...
Fishing is ridiculous.
Dead guy.
Chicago P.D. hold it!
Muldoon.
- Know that guy? - I knew him.
- What do you mean you knew him?
He died 30 years ago.
Who is this Muldoon?
Holloway Muldoon.
He was a legend in the North.
A gifted trapper and guide.
The story has it, he once carried an injured Hungarian
lepidopterist on his back for almost 200 miles
through a raging blizzard.
Underneath this heroic exterior, there lurked a criminal who,
for years, had been trafficking in endangered species...
Grizzly bladder, puma pelts, wolf fur...
Yes, I know, boy.
My father went after him.
The chase was epic. It lasted for a year and a half.
- Year and a half? - It was personal.
- You see, Muldoon's friendship with my father placed him above suspicion.
The chase finally ended when Muldoon fell into Six-Mile Canyon.
- Fraser, he's here in Chicago, so he did not fall into Six-Mile Canyon.
Apparently, he survived.
- Look, all I know, Fraser, we got two dead guys
and three scumbags shooting up Chicago with a grenade launcher,
and a whole lot of work to do.
Is that about the gist of it?
- Oh, that was just the tip of the iceberg, Son.
- Well, turns out that your car body
was an associate of your fishing body.
Name was Caesar Kahlil. Simple sheet, actually.
Receiving stolen goods, receiving stolen goods,
and, oh look, quelle surprise, receiving stolen goods.
So he was a fence.
- Your powers of deduction make a guy's head spin.
Thanks.
- This is interesting. - It makes no sense.
I believe it's a code.
- Seems he had a meet set for today. - Mm-hmm, this arrow would seem
to indicate it was connected to last night's meeting.
- Yeah, the only problem is we have no clue where this is happening.
- We know last night's meeting was at Quincy and Orleans.
Taking this to be Orleans, this to be Quincy, we have 13 letters.
If we plug those letters into today's entry, we get...
"O-L-C-O... something, something.
Next word... something... R- U-C... something...
I- N... something. "
Rucking... Trucking!
- And assuming it to be "trucking" that gives us the "T",
Which gives us... - Oh! Uh... Olcott trucking.
It's that abandoned place on Wacker.
Very good, Francesca.
Rats.
Something wrong, Ray?
- No, rats. - Ah, yes.
This place gives me the creeps.
- Him, too. He's never been fond of rodents.
Showtime.
Hold it right there!
Chicago P.D. put down your guns! - A.T.F. put down your guns!
Step out of the shadows!
Show us your ID! - Don't talk when I talk!
This is not your jurisdiction.
- That's odd, agent Maddox, because the last time I checked
the criminal code, homicide was still under state jurisdiction.
Let me make it clear.
I go to meet a snitch, I don't need interference
from some flatfoot city cop.
- Ha, this from the boys who brought you Waco.
Wake up, your snitch is downstairs chilling at the cold meat party.
- Gentlemen, perhaps it would be more productive
to discuss the weapons smuggler. - It's none of your business.
Someone starts shooting up Chicago with a grenade launcher,
I figure it's my business.
- Wrong, lieutenant. This is our case.
You keep your nose clear.
- For the record... Waco was an act of God.
So?
- So, officially, you're off the case.
Hey, if somebody wanted to take this case up as a hobby...
Everyone should have a hobby.
Everything my father ever did is in here.
Cross-referenced by criminal and by crime.
- The filing is a little crude. - Crude?
- But brilliant. - Smart boy.
To find Muldoon...
- Hmm... - What's up?
- A three-week period without entry.
- Maybe he was busy. - No, I don't think so.
The silence begins with the day my mother died.
- Aha! You see. I find Muldoon by simply
flipping to page 6 of... volume 9.
- I'd have rearranged the landscape, torn down the mountains
and diverted the rivers to catch Muldoon.
And I only had the slimmest of clues.
He always managed to be where no one expected him to be.
Usually that was where he had just been.
Anything?
He doubles back on himself.
- He doubles back on himself, does he, Fraser?
We've been waiting here for two days.
Alls I got is a nose that runs faster than a 3-year-old
at the Kentucky derby.
Look, I'm done-ski. I'm out of here.
Had enough of this.
Freeze! Chicago P.D.!
What's that?
It's Russian lettering.
- What's it say? - Well, my Russian's a little rusty,
but I think it's nerve gas.
And this one...
Oh, dear.
You have any gum?
We're in luck. Seems to be holding.
You know, at first glance, you wouldn't assume that gum
and string would be able to... what's wrong with you?
- I got it. - Got what?
Gas... I-I-I been gassed.
- Oh, no, Ray, I shouldn't think you'd actually been gassed.
- I got tingling, hands are tingling. I'm tingling all over.
- Ray, Ray, if you'd actually been exposed to nerve gas,
you'd be experiencing different symptoms. - Like what?
- Well, you'd have trouble breathing. - Yeah, ah, I got...
You'd probably feel a bit dizzy.
And you might feel as though you want to vomit.
You'd probably start bleeding out of your nose.
Your bowels would release.
Most of all, though, you'd probably be unconscious and dead.
Oh... I get nervous. I just, uh...
I got a bit nervous.
I'm O.K.
My bowels seem O.K.
- I'm relieved. - What did you find?
- It's a footprint, belonging, I think, to the driver of the car.
In which case, we can assume reasonably, that he was or is,
an employee of the Hotel California.
- You cannot tell that by a footprint, Fraser.
I don't care if you can track musk ox across the Atlantic Ocean,
you cannot tell where a person works by their footprint.
Oh...
Gas.
We have a pretty good idea which direction this wind is blowing.
Phone.
No, a real phone. One with a dial.
Gas? You say you have gas, Sir?
A powerful gas.
It could wipe out thousands. Possibly even more.
- I see. You have any idea about the source of this gas?
Russian in origin,
and there seem to be any number of clues,
none of which I can recall at the moment,
that indicate that they pose a dire threat to the city of Chicago.
Chicago?
- Get this straight, Son, this is a lethal gas.
This could wipe out big cities all across North America.
Have you considered consulting a physician, Sir?
- Son, I think that you probably have been hit by the dumb stick.
Would you put me on through to your superior, please?
Yes, sir.
Inspector Thatcher.
- Inspector, one word: diethyl- aminoethoxycyanophoxphene oxide.
- Oh my God. - One milligram of that could kill a man.
Or a woman.
- I don't know how much would kill a woman. Could be one, could be 10,
but that's not important.
The important thing is, there's a darker thread to the story,
and it has all the telltale signs of Muldoon...
One of foulest scum who ever walked the earth,
next to Howard Stern, that is. But it doesn't make sense,
'cause he's been dead for 30 years.
- Unfortunately, rumours of Muldoon's death
may have been greatly exaggerated.
Ah... I see.
And, uh, Constable Fraser, how's he taking this?
With his usual keenness, why?
Ah... then he doesn't know.
- Know what? - About Muldoon and his mother.
I have half a mind to get down to Chicago,
take a crack at Muldoon myself...
But my detachment is green.
Better to have somebody here at this end of the trail.
We do put the Mark on the soles.
Makes the boots part of a uniform, discourages theft.
The only problem is, they became something of a collector's item
and everyone was stealing them.
- I see, and how many were 16 double wide?
- How'd you know the size? - Well, we saw the print, Ray.
- Saw the print. - One pair size 16 double wide.
- And they belonged to...? - Toe Blake.
Toe Blake?
- Mmm, Big Toe Blake is his full name. We let him go for stealing.
Naturally, he stole his boots when he left.
Naturally.
- Big guy, big toe... big. - How big?
Very big.
You know, Ray, it's really a question of leverage.
It's not unlike bulldogging a steer.
Wrestling an elephant.
- For some time now Ottawa has suspected
that Russian military equipment was being smuggled
through Canada for sale throughout the world.
Naturally, headquarters wants it stopped immediately.
Naturally.
- But this particular case that sergeant Frobisher is working on
involves poisonous gas, which is quite dangerous, you know.
- I've heard that about poisonous gas.
- This particular gas though is a variant on Russian tabun,
which is, in fact, diethylaminoethoxy- cyanophosphene oxide.
Frobisher feels that the shipment is, in fact,
large enough to basically obliterate several small cities.
It's really quite exciting. - Exciting?
Well, at the risk of sounding self-absorbed,
a successful resolution to a case of this magnitude
could provide me with a promotion and a transfer to Toronto.
You're going to Toronto?
That's great... for you, of course,
and you know if there's anything I can do to help don't hesitate to ask.
I mean, a lift to the airport, anything. - Thank you. I appreciate that.
- So, I guess Frase will be taking over for you then, right?
Probably getting a brand new income.
Maybe a big house, a bedroom.
- Constable Frase is my second in command.
He's coming with me.
Huey! Dewey!
- O.K., big fella. - Hey, hey, hey.
Hey, come on. - Come on, move it.
- We have to talk. - You're touching me.
- Oh, ha, ha, ha... - I'm like a cab.
Guy hires me to drive, I drive.
- The guy buys crates of nerve gas, that's none of your business?
- Wow, look at him... Incredible, isn't he?
- He's huge. I'd say at least... - No, not him. Fraser.
Look at him.
- Nerve gas can kill thousands of people.
You know how many years you're going to do for killing thousands of people?
- Know how many times they can execute you?
He was born on the tundra.
I mean, that's where he belongs.
You'll kill him if you take him to Toronto.
A bit drastic, don't you think?
Look, I've been to Toronto, O.K.
Trust me, nothing can survive there.
Look at him. I mean, really look at him.
- He's some out-of-town talent I got hired to fare around,
and I don't know nothing about no gas.
- Look, pal, you had better know something about him.
- I collected him at a hotel. - Which hotel?
- Where I used to work. - California. Let's go.
What?
- That man. I think I've seen him before.
All right, I'll take the stairs.
- Hang on, here's a phone. I'll call you the floors.
Five... six.
Seven...
11...
12. Do you hear me? 14...
- Clearly, Ray. - 15...
You're breathing kind of hard.
20.
21...
22...
24.
That's it, Fraser, 24, I'm on my way.
2409.
- You sure this is the guy? You barely saw him.
Positive.
Housekeeping.
- Ray. - Ray?
- Ray Vecchio. - Ray Vecchio?
Oh, dear.
What's going on here?
I was under the impression I was going to meet
Armando Langoustini from the Iguana family,
southwest branch. - You are.
- Who the hell is Ray Vecchio? - Who the hell knows?
- Perhaps I could explain. - Perhaps you should shut up.
- Perhaps he should talk. Don't I know you?
Not directly, no.
I first came to Chicago on the trail of the killers...
Fraser, not now.
- Fraser? - Who are you?
- Who? Me? - Yeah, you.
- Uh... what do you mean? - What do they call you?
Am I still speaking English here? - Yes, boss, beautiful English.
- So, what's it going to be, funny guy?
You mean my name.
Oh, that.
Here.
- Ray Vecchio, Chicago P.D. - You bring cops to a meet?
It's your room, pal.
They followed you in. - Meaning what?
- Meaning this whole setup smelled from the get-go.
Who are you, buddy?
I've seen you before.
Yeah, dead guy, get up.
Let's go. Get up.
In the bathroom.
You want to play hardball with the Iguana family, you better have hard balls.
Still in the game?
I'm always in the game.
O. K... back-up location.
At 9:00.
Remember what I said before.
I don't wait.
- Hey, boss, you still got a little bit of blood, right...
All right, clean up the bodies.
So long, Armando Langoustini. It's been good knowing you.
For a full year, I'm deep undercover.
Never waiting in line, always getting
the best tables at the best restaurants.
I live in a 9,000-square-foot Adobe house at the edge of the desert
with a butler named Nero, who brings me buttermilk night and day.
And everywhere I go I sit in the back seat
of a black limo with my elbow on the gangster lean,
and all this, all this you wipe out with one word!
It's good to see you, Ray.
It's good to see you too, Benny.
Oh, Benny, that's cute.
- You could have got us all killed.
- Sorry, I was so pleasantly surprised to see you that I...
- Said something completely stupid?
Yes.
Ha, ha, yeah, this is 317.
I need a clean-up unit at 2409.
Right.
So you're me. - And you're not you.
- That's a good one, unlike the clothes.
Something wrong with them?
- Well, nothing if you're... a bag lady.
Well, you see, I had a rep, I was a slick dresser.
- Oh, yeah, like a style pig, you mean.
Ha, ha, you kill me, funny guy.
I see it's going to take a lot of work
to get my reputation back in place. - What place was that?
- Well, you see, these three goons are going
to get one call each... They'll call Vegas.
When they do, Armando Langoustini is going to go up like flash paper.
Time to reclaim my old life.
- But that's my life. - I'm afraid it is.
What are you grinning about?
- I knew you two would hit it off.
- Muldoon has weaponry for sale and a buyer.
He just needs somebody to broker the deal.
So the A.T.F. places two agents, a Kahlil and a Cartwright.
- Muldoon makes the agents and kills them both,
so the A.T.F. suspects an inside leak.
They turn to the FBI, who turns to me, Armando Langoustini.
The mob brokers the deal.
And how does the deal work?
- Two stages... the first, the nerve gas you stumbled upon.
The second is big and scary.
- And who's the buyer? - Again, don't know.
Very cagey, very secret... The basic idea was I'd broker
the deal and then we'd Nail Muldoon and the buyer.
- Which doesn't work... - Fraser and Ray show up
and blow the thing away.
- What now? - The meet with Muldoon is at 9:00.
My cover should hold till then. That's our window.
- O.K., we got to move. Huey and Dewey?
You run down every location, the whole layout.
Francesca, pull everything on Muldoon, any possible connections.
Fraser, you run it from your end, all right?
We've got six hours. Let's use them. Ray.
Yeah?
- No, I mean, uh... I can see this is going to be confusing.
Look, you be
Ray Vecchio 'cause you were Ray Vecchio to start with.
Right.
And, uh, who am I?
- Good question. Well, you can be Stanley Kowalski.
Stanley Kowalski?
His father liked Marlon Brando.
So, um, I just, uh...
O.K.
Later, Stanley. Sir!
- Tsk, what do you, um, what do you think of me?
What do I think of you?
O.K.
- I'm not sure what it is you're asking me.
Ha...
I guess that pretty much sums up what you think of me.
It's just, it's just, um...
When I think of the sheer... hours of female tonnage
that I've put into this relationship, you know,
the dedication and the patience
and the night heart-to-heart talks,
even if you weren't there, I just kind of...
I just kind of hoped or thought that...
that you would tell me.
I'm sorry, Francesca.
Tell you what?
That you're going home.
We're going home, Sir?
If we're present for the capture of Muldoon,
we could virtually guarantee ourselves a transfer.
What's the connection between your mother and Muldoon?
- Don't you mean my father and Muldoon?
- Oh, I was quite sure that Frobisher said
your mother, but as I understand it,
he's been having some digestive problems,
so do you ever think about it, Fraser?
- Digestive problems? - Home.
- Oh, home, yes. - As do I.
The air, the shopping, the cafe lattes.
I miss Toronto like you'd miss an old boyfriend you discarded.
- Toronto, Sir? I'm sorry, it's just when you say home,
well, I tend to think a little further north.
Oh.
- What the hell you think you're doing?
How can you work here?
- No worse than the piles of crap you left all over.
- My piles of crap are organized. - My mess is organized.
- Well, why don't you just organize it someplace else?
O.K.
Is that good? - You got a problem?
- Maybe, just maybe I don't like the way you're sashaying
around trying to take over everything.
This is my desk.
It's my life. Now, you get over it.
Well, you get over this.
- O.K., O.K., all right, back off, Kowalski.
That's my brother you're talking to,
so just stay out of his face.
And you, did they give you testosterone shots
in the mob or what?
Work.
- Listen, I... - Hey, forget about it.
It's just, you know, so sudden.
I mean, I knew... like, I knew you were coming back.
I just didn't... think it would be, uh, so soon.
I know.
- I mean, it feels like you died and you didn't get everything done.
Yeah.
You know, that's how I felt when I walked out of here.
How's Vegas been?
Ah, undercover's lonely.
That it is.
Well, you got Fraser.
Right.
Dad, why have, why have you...
Why... why...
Finish your sentence, Son.
An incomplete sentence is an early indicator of a softening mind.
- You were going to leave without telling me?
What else haven't you told me?
About what, specifically?
Holloway Muldoon.
- Someone's been talking out of turn.
Your diaries.
Buck Frobisher.
- I've hidden some things from you, Son, for your own good.
Muldoon was one of them.
I want you to believe me when I say the man was truly evil.
I just didn't see it.
I trusted him.
Invited him into our home.
I called him my friend.
By the time I caught up with him...
I wasn't thinking.
So he didn't fall into Six-Mile Canyon, did he?
I killed him.
I tried to, anyway. I imagine that's why I'm still here,
trying to make up for it in some way.
But where are you going now?
- To tend to something I should have tended to a long time ago.
I'll come back.
Until I do, stay alert and get Muldoon for me...
And for your mother.
And, Benton, don't make my mistake.
Do it right.
- You know, Benny, the desert's O.K.
and Nero does up a great buttermilk, but this is the stuff I miss.
- Like old times, eh? - Yeah.
Remember that time you locked us in that vault?
- Yeah. And the water kept rising until we almost drowned?
Yeah.
You know what I just said about missing all this?
Forget I ever said it. - Understood.
- You ever feel like you don't know who you are?
Like, uh, if you weren't around somebody
or that somebody wasn't around you,
that, uh, you wouldn't be you?
Or at least not the you that you think you are.
You know, you ever feel like that?
Never.
Me neither.
- Wish me luck. - You don't need it.
What's a fish with no eyes?
- What are you doing? - We're practising.
- To pass yourself off as two guys with serious head wounds?
No, the One-Liner.
We're going to open up a comedy club.
- Yeah. - Oh, God.
God help us all.
Hold it, Muldoon!
- Damn! Damn! - Darn.
- I'm not sure what I'm looking for.
Forgiveness maybe?
And I know I should have come here when I was alive.
I was too apprehensive.
Now I'm dead.
But of course there's nothing preventing you
from showing up here, Caroline.
It's not as though we're not in the same place.
At least I hope we still are.
I miss you.
And I worry about our son.
I worry that I haven't told him...
not everything.
And now he'll find out on his own.
I hope he's all right.
Fraser!
- What are you guys doing here? - Looking for our guy.
- He was ours before he was your guy.
Where did they go?
- Hey! - Jumpy.
It's this place...
- Hey! - Jumpy.
The corridor branches off.
- Give it up! - You haven't got a chance.
It's our bust.
In a pig's eye.
Our guy set it up.
- He's our guy and you nearly got him killed.
- We'll split up. Take these guys. - Muldoon's this way, Sir.
Shooting, your aim's lousy.
I need my glasses. - Forget it, let's go.
- We don't have to go, you know. - Up these stairs, Sir?
No, to Toronto.
I mean, if you don't... We could go somewhere else.
- Understood. Shall we? - Yes.
- Get out of here. - Dad! Dad! Dad!
Daddy!
How's those glasses coming?
- Got them. They were stuck in the lining.
- Surrender, Muldoon! Your ammunition is spent.
You've nowhere to go.
- I still have this nerve gas, Benton.
You recognize me?
- Something twigged in that hotel room.
Made me think of your father. And you know what?
He didn't get me, and I don't believe you will either.
You know I'll never give up.
That'll make two members of your family that I've killed then.
Oh...
Your father didn't tell you? Ha.
That's negligent parenting, that is.
Your father wanted to arrest me, but I had this shotgun.
An ugly affair passed down from an uncle, ha, ha.
Your mother was a pretty woman, Benton.
But when I shot her, she dropped like a big old sack of potatoes.
Nice shot! Go!
- Huh? - You want me to go?
- No, no, I can go. - Then go!
60 seconds.
You got 60 seconds, and then the nerve gas blows.
Give me your gun! Give it to me!
- How the hell did we ever work this with Fraser?
I don't know, go.
- We're going to have to bridge this contact
and cut these two wires while upside down.
35 seconds.
Let's synchronize our breathing. - Right.
Ready?
One...
Two...
Three.
- Uh, they don't really know whether, um...
I mean, it's still, it's still in him, so, uh,
You can see him if you want, but he's still out.
Um, Francesca.
Ahem.
I've been thinking about what you said
about our... and I...
I know that I don't often say...
Um, I mean, I'm not particularly skilled at expressing...
Franny, he likes you.
I know.
I'm glad.
So you found out, Son.
Why didn't you tell me?
- It seems misguided now, but you were so young at the time.
Just a young boy.
I was full of rage. I didn't want to pass that to you.
I wanted to protect you.
- He killed my mother. I would have done the same.
I hope not, Ben.
I hope you never get a chance to find out.
- Still talking to yourself, Benny?
Ray.
It's just a flesh wound.
I've been waiting all my life to say that.
It's not as much fun as I thought it would be.
Just like old times, huh?
Unhappily, yes.
- Do you Mounties still always get your man?
We try to.
Go get him, Benny.
Yeah, yeah.
It's for you.
Ah. Yes.
I see.
Right.
Thank you kindly.
That was Constable Turnbull.
Frobisher's questioned some of Muldoon's known associates,
and apparently, whenever he's in this vicinity,
he uses a small airstrip known as Trumball Field.
So, what? We still partners?
If you'll have me.
Chicago ground control, whisky tango.
One-niner requesting taxi turns for runway three.
What the hell was that? - Metal fatigue.
Are you all right?
- You know, Fraser, being your partner has certain drawbacks.
Such as?
High winds in northern sky
Will carry you away
You know you have to leave here
You wish that you could stay
There's four directions on this map
But you're only going one way
Due South That's the way I'm going
Due South
Saddle up my travelling shoes
I'm bound to walk away these blues