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It's not the drugs, Ariane, it's it's someone who wants to kill me. You gotta believe me! |
Why? |
Christ! Shit! I could kill them all with my bare hands. |
Who? |
Those fucking Mob assholes. |
C'mere. You got some good blow, right? |
Yeah. |
Then c'mere. I got something for you. |
First I'll put your Uptown in the spoon, then, to make it more exciting, I'm gonna add some Downtown. They call this thing a speedball, honey, but then you must know that... First time shooting up? |
Nah... |
Sure it is. You're a virgin. Just like that nun. And I'm gonna rape you. |
Can you believe the nerve of this fucking guy? He kills people for fun, and then, he puts up 100 G to bring in some guys who raped a nun. What a sick fuck. Man... |
Who? |
A wiseguy. Paying 100 Grand for the rapists if I turn then over direct to him. |
But you could do it, baby. We could use the bread... |
You mean you could use it. |
I got it, man! I will find those kids. And I'll get the 50 G from the Church! Then the kids'll go to jail. I'll be in charge, of course. After a little while, I'll break the fuckers out and I'll turn them in to shithead I was just talking to. And pick up his 100 G. No. I'll hit him up for 200 G. Or 250 G. l can do it ... |
"The Strawberries"? |
The Mets. So anyway, chalk up another 180 G for the Game. Jesus Christ! That's almost half a million dollars. Ariane! Wait. That's not good enough, I'll ask the shithead for 280 G for the kids. Then it'll be a perfect 500 thousand. Yeah. Perfect. 280 G for the kids. Yeah, it's good I prepared, or I wouldn't have though... |
How come all those guys who're looking to get 50 from the Church haven't come up with shit? You got some kinda inside track? |
I'm a Catholic. |
Alderman Swayzak. |
Investigator Rimgale. |
I need to get in the trunk. |
Inspector. |
Alderman. |
When are you going to catch the prick that's doing this, Don? |
"Don?" |
Don't you have any leads at all? |
No Marty, I don't. |
We still haven't found a connection between the victims. |
Jesus, open your eyes! Seagrave, Cosgrove, and now Holcomb fried in a goddamn highrise! |
Holcomb? I didn't know the name of that victim had even been released yet. |
Is there a connection between them, Alderman? |
Just catch the son of a bitch. |
Mr. Swayzak! How ya doin'? |
Investigator... |
I'm a little busy right now |
This'll only take a minute. There's two cops outside that want to ask you about this |
Got a cause? |
Are the glory boys actually showing interest in Investigation's work? I may have a stroke. |
The glory boys just want to finish their report so they can go home. |
I'm working on it. |
I deal with this stuff every day. But a fireman... you never get used to it. What happened up there? He was a candidate. Did he pay attention? Was he listening? |
...He wasn't listening to the right thing... |
What do you listen to, Stephen? |
You don't know... nobody knows... |
I might. |
It knows us. This one knows us. |
I need that report, Lt. |
Shadow. |
How ya doin', Ronald. Staying comfortable? |
Didn't think you'd make it. |
Wouldn't miss this for the world, pal. |
Who's this? |
He works for me. |
Is he a fireman? I like firemen. |
You like everybody, Ronald. |
You don't know him. |
I know you. |
Knock it off. Now. |
Tell him about me, Shadow? |
Ronald here likes telephones. Used to tape wooden matches to the bell striker and wrap it in cotton. Came up with a whole little thing there, didn't you Ronald? When you got bored, what did you do? You just started making calls... mostly day care centers and retirement homes, wasn't it? |
Did he tell you how we finally met? |
Nobody cares, Ronald. |
Oh, but it's a good story, Shadow. You're depriving our famous young friend here... |
Sure Ronald? You're ready alright. |
Absolutely. |
Burn them. |
And old ladies? |
Burn them. |
And the world the whole world. |
Burn it all. |
They ran the residue you scraped from both crispers' front doors. It's a combination of plumber's putty and rayophene gum. Burns almost completely away when you light it. |
Putty? On both doors? |
There's something else kinda interesting... |
Anyway, down here, take a look... |
McCaffrey, hold this for us. |
See that patch of shirt? We wondered about the discoloration so he ran a spectro. On a lucky shot we picked up some traces of Trychticholorate. Nobody around here had ever heard of it. |
Trychticholorate? Alright, it's an absorption catalyst in toxic waste accidents. It's pretty rare, they stopped making it a couple'a years ago. |
Probably got in Cosgrove's clothes in a gas state from the fire. |
What the hell was it doing in the fire? |
That's your job. |
Uh, Helen, I wanted to talk to you a second about Sean... |
Stephen, I'm kinda busy here, can we talk about this later? |
You can't talk about my brother like that... |
Here we go... |
Stephen, what are you doing here? |
Fixing my roof. |
It's not your roof anymore. |
Where's Sean? |
He's got piano lessons. |
Oh yeah? How's he doing? |
He's going to be a fireman. |
Give up, babe. You can't fight it. Believe me, my mom tried... |
Stephen, you gotta stop just showing up on the roof like this. |
I just wanted to, I don't know, not exactly apologize for the other night especially since I don't remember much of it |
You remember. |
Yeah... I just thought I should say, I don't know, something. |
The great communicator. |
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