WOMAN: You want me out?
This is what happens. (siren whoops)
I'm not going anywhere. You hear me?!
Here! Whoa!
(crowd gasps)
That is what eviction looks like!
Hey! All right, get back.
Get all these people back. All right.
JANKO: Hey. Step back, step back.
Back up. Whoa, back up, back up.
Hey, folks, let's get back.
Move up.
Hey, police. Open up!
WOMAN: Leave me alone!
Hey. Stop.
Hey, put that down.
Hey, police! Put those down.
Put it down.
(sighs)
This is my home since 1979.
I shouldn't have to leave.
On to the Belvin case.
The defense has filed for a motion.
Are you gonna eat that
or are you just gonna move it around on your plate?
I'm still trying to find the other four eggs
and the pound of bacon I normally have.
You said you wanted to lose weight.
Do I have to lose my mind, too?
Anyway, back to Belvin.
I need you to verify
where he was from the moment he left his house
to the exact time of the crash.
Excuse me, Ms. Reagan?
Yes?
I'm Bev Gower.
Um...
You don't remember me?
Uh, no, but you look familiar, I just...
I'm the wife of the man you killed.
He's dead!
My husband is dead because of you!
He's dead!
Calm down. Calm down. You hear me?!
Let go of me!
Sean, come on. You're gonna be late.
Hey, how about we have a contest today?
Whoever has the better day gets to choose the takeout tonight.
Yeah. Okay.
Something wrong?
Not really.
Dad, why did she die and not you?
I don't mean that, uh...
You and Uncle Jamie have the dangerous jobs.
But nobody ever warned you that your mom
might not make it home from work one day.
Yeah.
Look, if I could...
change it and bring your mom back,
you know I would...
but I can't.
So you're stuck with me, kiddo.
'Cause I'm not going anywhere.
Okay?
Come on. Get out of here.
Gonna be late.
Have a good day, okay?
(door opens, closes)
(door opens)
Sir, Archbishop Kearns is on his way up.
He's not on the schedule.
No. He said he was in the neighborhood.
Once an altar boy...
Welcome, Your Eminence.
Thank you, my dear, for showing me up.
Your Eminence. Hello, Frank.
My apologies for the imposition.
Thank you, Baker.
Please, sit down.
Frank, um... I, um,
I have a moral quandary that I need your help with.
I'm honored.
Wary but honored.
If you had a ring, I would kiss it.
Come on, Kevin. Let's have it.
A woman was arrested this morning in SoHo
for noncompliance with a eviction notice.
She's a painter.
She founded the neighborhood garden.
She fought against gentrification.
She-she pretty much fits the urban saint profile.
She have a name?
Uh, I'm not good with names.
No matter. I can get the arrest report.
The Diocese owns the building she's lived in for decades
and recently sold it to a developer.
I-I can't stop the sale,
but I managed to barter a week's extension for her.
But an arrest, it seems like adding insult to injury.
I don't void arrests.
No, I know, but you, you do have allies in the D.A.'s office
who might be able to help determine the charges.
One lovely young lady in particular, I believe.
I'll relay the compliment, if not the request.
Frank, this is gonna play out in the press and in the parishes
as a city treasure who was thrown out on the streets
for the wages of greed-- greed on the part of the archdiocese--
and that's a buck that stops with me.
What's happened to you, Kevin?
Since when do you put the needs of an individual
before the needs of the Church?
Now that I'm rounding third base and heading for home,
I-I'd like to spend the rest of my days
sharing the love of God with individuals in need,
rather than the entire flock.
Does that make any sense?
It does.
But I need your help, Frank.
This lady needs your help.
I'll see what I can do.
Thank you.
I won't take any more of your time.
God bless you, my friend.
I look forward to hearing from you.
(sighs)
Hey, surprised I beat you here.
Traffic on the Verrazano.
Yeah, but I was coming from Uptown,
where a certain vice detective lives.
Sounds fun.
Wow, seriously?
You don't want to know all the juicy details?
Uh, I'm glad you had a good time.
Okay?
Okay.
What's going on with you?
Nothing's going on with me.
Reagan, I know you.
I know when something's eating at you.
If you know me, then you'd know that there's nothing wrong
when I say there's nothing wrong.
What do we got, Cosgrove?
One male, DOA.
So we don't even know if it's a homicide?
Not until you work your magic.
It's not magic; it's skill.
Is that the basketball player, Roland Jeffries?
Looks like he had a fun night, too...
till he didn't.
♪ Blue Bloods 8x06 ♪ Brushed Off Original Air Date on November 3, 2017
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man
♪ ♪
Got to be about a dozen news trucks down there already.
Yeah, the media is gonna have a field day with this one.
Got cocaine residue on his nose,
couple empties in his pockets,
a few under the sofa.
And only two years in the NBA.
Well, you know what they say.
Live fast, die young.
COSGROVE: Sir, you need to back up now.
Would you let me in there, please?
That is my client.
Do you want him
or the room service girl who found the stiff?
Uh, I'm not gonna deal with that prick.
You can. I'll talk to the girl.
MAN: Can I talk to your supervisor? It's okay, Cosgrove.
I'm Detective Baez.
You're Mr. Jeffries' agent? JJ Baruch.
I can't believe this.
I'm sorry for your loss.
He ordered food and I brought it up around 2:00 a.m.
There were three guys here with him.
One of them laughed and asked if I was dessert, so...
I just set up the cart and left as fast as I could.
You get that a lot?
Guests flirting with you and being inappropriate?
Men and women.
When people check into a hotel,
they kind of lose their minds.
What time did you find the body?
About 7:00 a.m.
I-I came back for the cart,
but he was just lying there.
It's so weird 'cause I saw him in the lobby yesterday,
and he was laughing and seemed so happy.
Was he with his three friends from the room
when you saw him in the lobby?
No, just fans taking selfies with him.
Did you take a selfie with him?
No. I'm more into football.
Me, too.
All right.
ABETEMARCO: I placed her in the conference room
like you asked, though I would have taken great pleasure
in throwing her ass in a cell.
Well, thank you for your restraint.
- Is that the case she was yelling about? - Yeah.
Nine years ago, her husband, Norm Gower,
was a pro Bono lawyer with a client named Tina Araya.
She was a heroin addict who was arrested for stealing a car.
Gower got obsessed with her, went to her place one night,
attacked her.
Her screams alerted the neighbors.
He fled.
Trial took one day. Jury took one hour.
Open and shut.
Didn't hurt that Norm acted as his own attorney
and was in way over his head.
Or that you're a kickass prosecutor.
Well...
You know, New York hasn't
executed anyone in 50 years.
So, how's the wife saying that you killed her husband?
I don't know.
Let's go ask her.
Last and certainly least,
the mayor has ordered new portraits
for all city commissioners. No.
It's a thing for the corridor outside her office in City Hall.
So she feels like...
Like she was actually elected,
like she actually picked us?
I don't know. Just say yes.
Who's painting these portraits? Her niece? Her nephew?
I'm not sure.
Still, no.
What do you got, Sid?
That the archbishop left a couple of things
out of his account of Ms. Slaughter's arrest.
Her name's Slaughter?
Trudy Slaughter, yeah.
The artist?
GORMLEY: Yeah. You know her?
I know who she is.
Call came in because she was tossing
objects out of a third story window
and endangering passerbys,
some of which were cans of paint,
some of which narrowly missed
Officers Reagan and Janko, but repainted their radio car.
It get worse?
Officer Reagan was able to arrest her
without further incident or resistance.
Okay.
I didn't mean to hurt you.
Flipping over a table ain't exactly a way to say hello.
I'm just still so angry.
I thought I wouldn't be after all this time,
but... but then Norm was released from prison
last month and the look in his eyes...
I'm sorry, what? He's not dead?
Not physically.
But inside, he is.
That's what happens when you send an innocent man to prison.
The jury sent him after hearing all the evidence.
He's innocent!
Oh.
I swear on my life Norm is the sweetest,
kindest soul I've ever known-- he wouldn't attack anyone.
The victim, Tina Araya,
ID'd him in court.
Norm spent his whole life helping clients.
His fingerprints were all over her apartment.
Because he rented it for her
so she could turn her life around.
I know he screwed up representing himself in court,
but he thought no one could possibly believe
he'd harm Tina.
And then you told the jury
he was an evil man masquerading as a saint.
And I watched as each and every one of them
started to believe you. Mrs. Gower...
Even Norm said it was a great closing argument.
Then the jury found him guilty,
and he was taken away.
And that's the last time I saw my husband really alive.
March 24,
2008.
Uh...
Detective ABETEMARCO will see you out.
Meet Roland Jeffries' three friends from last night--
the North Side Sinners.
Boy band? Yeah, I wish.
Try drug gang.
Narcotics says they're new in town,
but they are from the same neighborhood in Philly
where Roland Jeffries is from.
Well, that explains why they were hanging out,
but not what happened to Roland.
Well, apparently their boss-- the guy pictured
in the mug shot there, Santiago Cabbad--
is very paranoid.
So much so that last year, when he thought
one of his underlings was talking to the cops,
he made the kid eat so much coke that his stomach exploded
and he OD'd choking on his own vomit.
Seems like a waste of product.
Yeah, but it's a good way to keep your crew in line.
You think Roland somehow pissed off his old pal
and got the same treatment?
There's only one person to ask.
You got it.
I get to see my daughter on a school night,
and she brings me dinner?
Okay, so what do you need?
What do you mean? There is no such thing
as a free lunch or dinner.
Maybe you spend too much time around criminals
and their lawyers.
Maybe.
There is something I need from you.
Shoot.
What was it like when your dad and I split up?
Well, I mean, I was still pretty little.
Yeah, I know, but... how do you remember me?
Kind of... unpredictable.
What do you mean?
One minute you'd be
running around, all smiles,
going, "Everything is gonna be great,"
and then, the next minute
you'd be in your room crying... loud.
What else?
Oh, and this kid
in soccer I had a crush on-- Jeff Butler--
you said not to even bother,
that "no man can be trusted,
especially the ones that seem the nicest."
Sorry about that.
(laughs)
Look, what's this all about?
(sighs)
I put a man away nine years ago
on the same day your dad and I got a divorce.
March 24, 2008.
The man's wife has always maintained his innocence.
Blindly, I always thought.
But maybe you were the blind one,
given all that was going on.
I hope not.
But that's what keeps kicking around in my head.
DANNY: What do we got, boss?
Cabbad and a dozen of his boys
just went in about a half hour ago.
You run a camera under the door, see who's where?
Was I supposed to?
Well, it'd be nice for me and my partner
not to get our heads blown off when we walk in.
All right, whatever. Let's go, we'll follow.
Let's move.
OFFICER: Go! Go! Go!
Police! Everybody down!
Are we gonna go?
No, we're gonna wait till they clear the building,
and then we'll go-- protocol.
Since when do you care about protocol?
OFFICER: Clear! Since now.
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Kill Roland?
Nah, man, he's my boy from way back.
Yeah, such an inspirational story, the two of you.
Both coming up out of the mean streets
of Philly.
He makes it to the big leagues,
and you make it to the Big Apple.
Except he plays ball and you sling dope.
Big difference.
We all got talents.
What went wrong the other night?
Nothing. We hung out in the bar for a while.
Played some Xbox in his room,
then me and my crew split.
Is it just me, or is he omitting
a very important part of the timeline?
The part where they did a boatload of coke.
Yeah, that part.
Hey, only Ro was getting high.
And I'm a Jamaican jet pilot.
Fine, we might have done some,
but he Hoovered up most of it.
Ro never could shake his thirst.
DANNY: Uh-huh. Must have OD'd.
Right. Except we have a different theory.
Which is that he didn't want to pay for the hookup--
that he thought you and your buddies should be thankful
you were even allowed to hang out in a suite
with a superstar like him.
BAEZ: 'Cause when one of your homies
gets too big for his britches, Cabbad,
you cut him down to size.
Yeah, sure do, don't you?
I don't know, maybe you, uh... (chuckles)
What's that?
Speak up, I can't hear you.
I said you got your head up your ass, man!
(laughing)
You son of a bitch. Hey!
- How about I kick your ass for you, man? - Hey, hey!
Get off me.
I didn't kill my friend!
Keep smiling.
I'm gonna wipe that smile off your face, you punk.
What the hell is wrong with you?
What happened to protocol?
Come-- look at him. No.
Get out of here before you ruin this damn case.
No, we're gonna...
Go.
(knock on door)
Officer, this has been resolved.
I have another week.
Frank Reagan, Ms. Slaughter.
I know who you are.
May I come in?
Uh, sure.
Is it true the archdiocese offered you
a million dollars for this place?
Is that what this is?
What what is?
Well, first I get strong-armed by the Church,
and now by the State?
No. It sure feels that way.
Not my intention.
Why don't you just take the money?
This has been my home and my studio since 1979.
I can't replace it at five times that amount.
And even if you could...
it wouldn't be the same.
What are you doing here, Mr. Reagan?
The archbishop asked if I would try
to find a way to help you out of the jam
you got yourself into.
Why?
He feels guilty.
And, to be honest, he knows
he's in for some bad press if you get into the system
and your story gets picked up.
Unless that's what you're looking for,
to make another scene.
(sighs): Sorry about that.
I kind of lost it.
Your sentence could be community service.
Namely, to paint my portrait.
Comes with a thousand-dollar stipend.
Uh, you see that little piece?
That's $3,000.
You'd make mine wallet-size.
You can paint a portrait, right?
What is that supposed to mean? Don't get me wrong.
Your work is beautiful.
But there's no people in it.
Yes, I can paint a portrait.
I always loved that one.
You've seen it before?
No, I meant Zito's Bakery.
Bleecker and Cornelia.
I can still smell the bread. Miss that.
Do we have a deal?
Gets me off the hook?
I'm afraid I can't change the fact that
you're gonna have to move.
My office will be in touch. Thank you.
Hello, sis.
Ah, Danny. Right on time.
For what? For you to try
to strong-arm me into charging Santiago Cabbad.
What?
You don't think I get a heads-up
the moment you arrive and start badgering
all the ADAs about some case?
Takes you 20 minutes for them
to shut you down, and then you come up here.
That is not true.
Really?
Okay, it is true. Can you help?
Sorry, Saul already filled me in.
Cabbad and his friends testing positive for cocaine
only proves that they partied with Roland Jeffries,
not that they killed him.
Okay, so that's it?
I am happy to charge them with the drugs
that you found at their place.
Great. So now I look like
a complete idiot for nothing.
(sighs)
Can you help me with something else, then?
Sure.
The other day, Sean reminded me
that, with their mom gone...
the boys have nobody else.
If anything should happen to me, that is.
You know, they'd be all alone.
They're never gonna be all alone.
You know the way kids think.
So now you're scared of getting hurt?
I'm not scared, I'm just...
Since Linda's been gone,
I'm just having a hard time
separating personal from the job.
Join the club.
I may have gone after a guy hammer and tongs
back when I was getting divorced,
because deep down inside, I was pissed at Jack.
What's happening to us?
Turns out, we may have flaws.
Well, speak for yourself.
(phone ringing)
It's the M.E.
Reagan.
Yeah.
Yeah, I got it.
Cabbad just squirmed free.
Didn't make your Vic OD on cocaine?
The M.E. found coke in his system,
but that's not what killed him.
What killed him is a lethal injection
of potassium chloride mixed with morphine.
Which is the same thing they use in executions.
So, too sophisticated for a bottom-feeder like Cabbad.
Way too sophisticated for Cabbad.
Which means the only thing I have
besides a dead body is squat.
Through Christ Our Lord, Amen. ALL: Amen.
This whole daylight savings time racket
throws my digestive system off. (laughs)
Dinner table conversation.
Please. HENRY: I just meant
that I was hungry an hour ago because of the time change.
I wish they would just do away with it.
Write your congressman.
Democrats don't have any strings to pull these days.
Some logic you got there, Gramps.
Hmm. JAMIE: Speaking of which,
I collared an artist the other day on a felony
criminal mischief.
Throwing cans of paint out her window, one of them hit our car.
Did you hear about this?
Something about it, yeah.
Well, I ask when my grand jury appearance is,
and they tell me she walked.
Said strings got pulled from the top.
Well, she didn't just walk.
She got community service.
That's it?
That's it. Yeah.
You don't think we can't tell by now
when you know more than you're saying?
DANNY: Tight lips.
That's how he got where he got.
Wait, come on, Dad, what's the story?
(sighs) She is being evicted from her loft
because the archdiocese sold her building out from under her.
So His Eminence asked me to try to find a way
to soften her landing.
That's all.
HENRY: While the archdiocese cashes
their tremendous check. I mean, it's just not right.
They're closing down schools.
That's another thing you should write the congressman about.
Don't tempt me.
Maybe they can close down my school.
That'd be cool.
Oh, maybe we'll just find you a stricter school.
That'll be cool.
What's her community service?
Portraits.
What was that, Francis?
The mayor has ordered up a round of new official portraits.
Oh.
And she's doing yours?
Yes.
What did you say this artist looked like, exactly, Jamie?
Smoking hot.
Oh. (laughter)
Which has absolutely nothing to do with anything.
Right. Which he says defensively.
Which he said truthfully, period.
Could we just talk about something else now?
Sure.
Thank you. DANNY: Yeah.
So how does this exactly happen...
(laughs) ...getting your portrait painted?
Yeah, do you get to, like, pose in her studio for days?
Dad, you should do this guy.
No, Rocky.
Balboa. (laughter)
Hey Regan.
Morning.
Hey. Hey.
I've been thinking about who else might've killed Roland J.
And I don't want to hear it.
Now what's your problem?
I mean, I don't want to hear it until I say what I got to say,
which is, you were right.
I've been all screwed up in the head lately,
and it's put me on the back foot,
and I should've told you, but I didn't,
so I'm sorry.
Do you want to talk about it?
Pretty sure I just did talk about it.
I guess a few drops of blood from a stone is progress.
All right. Tell me about Roland's killer.
I like JJ Baruch. The agent?
Who barely batted an eye at the crime scene the other day.
Well, what do you expect? He's an agent.
They don't care about people.
They only care about money.
Well, I also learned he took out a life insurance policy
on Roland just last year.
Okay, now you have my attention.
And his brother is a doctor,
which is where he could've learned
about potassium chloride.
Okay, now you really got my attention.
Good. I'm glad you think so,
because you get to search the pharmacy records
for anyone who's gotten potassium chloride
and morphine recently. Come on.
There's got to be a thousand pharmacies in this city.
I mean, there's one on every street corner.
Yeah. Well, then, you better hop to it.
Tina Araya.
(door closes)
Ms. Reagan.
Well. I'm surprised you remember after all these years.
You look good.
Yeah. It's amazing what kicking heroin can do
to a girl's complexion.
But that's not why you're here.
No, it's not.
You finally figured out the truth.
You want to tell me, or should I lay it out for you?
I lied about Mr. Gower attacking me.
Right.
So who did it?
My boyfriend, Max.
But you told your neighbors,
you told the police that Norm did it.
I just didn't want Max to get in trouble.
I know that sounds crazy,
but back then we were so wrapped up in the drugs.
And Max got mad at me because I didn't score that day,
so he started beating me up,
and I started screaming, and then,
suddenly, he ran off and everyone starting showing up,
so I had to say something.
We put an innocent man in jail
for the past nine years.
Not you, Ms. Reagan.
Me.
Okay? You just did your job.
Where is Max?
I don't know.
He dumped me a couple months later.
I mean, I felt so guilty about all of it,
I decided to get clean.
And...
So I can believe in myself.
The way Norm always believed in me.
You knew I was gonna find out.
I hoped you would.
And...
I destroyed Norm's life.
So...
Thank you.
You know, for doing what I never could do.
Come on. Can't you just take a look?
I'm sorry, I can't help you.
Look, all you got to do
is just, you know, tap a few keys here,
bring up the names of anybody
who's had morphine and potassium chloride in the last few months.
Yeah, we already did all the hard work,
digging through prescriptions in millions of pharmacies.
And by "we," she means "me."
To disclose that name would be
to violate federal HIPAA regulations.
You know what HIPAA stands for, right?
Yes.
The Health Insurance Portability...
And Accountability Act. I already know that. Okay?
But just help us out. Come on.
You want the name, get a warrant.
What if you just tell us the person's initials?
Or what if I attend to customers who need my assistance?
Mrs. Dettenmeier.
Let me see if that prescription's ready.
So what's next? We pick up Baruch
and try to sweat a confession out of him?
I don't know.
One second.
Excuse me.
Fan of Roland Jeffries, huh?
Yo, can you believe he's gone?
Tell me about it. It's heartbreaking.
You interested in any, uh, Roland Jeffries merchandise?
Are you kidding?
Well, I know his agent, uh,
JJ Baruch. He's got a bunch
of signed stuff, and he gives it to me,
but I have no use for it.
That'd be tight.
Great. Great.
I just need you to do one thing for me.
(door chimes)
- You get it? - Sure did.
Good.
Your boss didn't see? I told him someone
in the heartburn aisle had questions for him.
Good man. Hey, what about my merch?
This is my card. You call me in a week,
you'll get your merch. You know I will.
I'm sure you will, now beat it.
All right, what do you got?
Someone named Diane Vickers?
Vickers. That's the, uh,
the girl in the hotel who I spoke to
while you were speaking to Baruch.
Diane?
No, it wasn't Diane, it was Darla.
You think it's any relation?
There's only one way to find out.
I'm just gonna have you sit here.
And this is just for the light.
The, uh, the background will actually be different.
The city in flames?
Why would you say that?
Your work wasn't always so apolitical.
My work is still political, just in a different way.
And how would you know?
Different how?
I always tried to paint what I saw.
New York in the late '70s.
AIDS, "Giuliani time."
But this isn't that.
No... no.
Now I paint the New York that I miss.
The one where the loft we're in wasn't the price of a mansion.
I miss that New York, too.
What's going on here, Mr. Reagan?
I'm sitting for my portrait, and please call me Frank.
Okay, Frank.
But there's something else.
Early in the evening in the blackout of '77,
you came up to a cop
on the corner of Bleecker and MacDougal.
You couldn't reach the friends you were supposed to crash with.
And I ended up in a bar.
I knew the bartender.
(laughs softly) Georgie Boy Farrell.
Anyway, I came by later at closing time to check on you.
And I'd gotten pretty drunk, I guess.
Yeah, but one of the waitresses had a couch,
and she offered to put you up, so I knew you'd be okay.
Oh.
Did we...?
No.
But you kissed me.
And not just for a second.
I kissed a lot of guys in those days.
And I kissed one girl a lot in those days.
My wife.
But I remembered your name.
And I thought people like you who came to New York
in those mean old days
were like lambs to the slaughter.
I don't know, I guess that's how it stuck.
Yikes.
So... I would check the Village Voice,
and go to galleries where you showed
and...
do you have a camera?
Uh, sure. Why?
Well, you're gonna have to take a couple of snaps
and paint from that.
I am, after all, the police commissioner of New York City.
I do not have time to sit for portraits.
Of course.
At a certain point, I think it's important
to take stock of what you had.
But also...
if you get the chance, what you missed, too.
Don't you think?
Yeah.
That's all this is.
Frank, did you ever think to come to an opening, you know?
Come up and say hi?
Yeah.
I thought it.
(doorbell rings)
Hey, Darla.
Detectives.
Uh, we had a few questions.
Do you mind if we come in?
Of course.
It's okay. Shh, shh.
Who is this? My son, Evan.
He's a cutie.
DANNY: Yeah.
Um...
who's Diane Vickers?
My mother.
Your mother.
Um, is she here?
Could we talk to her?
Mom!
Can you come out here? DIANE: Yes.
Let me put him down. I'll be right back.
Hi, I'm Detective Reagan.
This is my partner, Detective Baez.
You have a prescription for potassium chloride,
is that right?
And about ten million other things.
Furosemide
for my blood pressure,
beta blockers for my arrhythmia,
modafinil
to wake me up,
morphine to help me sleep.
Here's the boxes for potassium.
Which is odd because I don't think I take it anymore.
You don't think?
Some of my meds make me forgetful.
That's why Darla is in charge of everything.
She is?
DIANE: Yes, Darla's in charge
of all of my prescriptions. Picking them up,
making sure I take the right one at the right time.
Ooh, she's a godsend.
She sure is.
Ah, we're gonna go talk to her now, okay?
Is everything okay?
Darla.
Darla!
(Evan crying)
Darla.
Ms. Vickers, can you come down here and watch the baby?
It's okay. Where's your mom?
Go that way.
Darla, stop!
(tires screech, horn honks)
Hey!
Hold it!
Hey, stop! Leave me alone!
Stop.
Put the scissors down.
Come on, put 'em down.
(crying): No, you should want me to die.
You know what I did.
I don't want anyone to die.
Okay? But you're gonna get yourself killed
or hit by a car if you don't step away from the street.
Come on. Talk about what happened with Roland, okay?
Come on.
Stop! Stop.
He was here last year...
for the same award show.
I brought him room service and he poured me a drink.
When I found out I was pregnant, I-I called him,
but he hung up.
(crying): And I told his agent, and he said I was lying,
and-and that-that they'd sue me.
They did you wrong, okay? I get it.
I wouldn't have killed him
if he had just acted like me and Evan exist.
Evan does exist.
And he needs his mom.
No, not if I'm in jail.
All kids need their moms. All right?
And they need them alive. (crying)
Just put the scissors down, get out of the street.
No.
And let's go give your boy a hug, okay?
Come on.
(cries)
Come on. Please.
Thanks for helping me.
But it's too late.
Hey!
All right?
(crying)
My investigator, Anthony, tracked down Max
in East New York, and with his confession
and Tina recanting her testimony,
the judge has agreed
to dismissing the original charges
and vacating your felony conviction.
I can't believe it.
On behalf of this office and me, personally,
I'd like to apologize for the injustice you have endured.
The State endeavors to render
a true verdict in every case,
but we clearly failed in this one.
And... without your wife and the unconventional way
she brought it to my attention,
this wrong would have gone uncorrected.
All I ever wanted was for people to know I'm innocent.
Well, there is someone else who would like to apologize.
Tina.
I'll step outside.
Mr. Gower,
look, I know I changed your life horribly.
(muffled conversation)
No, you heard me right.
I would like you to reinstate the compensation
for Ms. Slaughter's eviction.
That ship has sailed.
Call it back to the dock.
I can't.
Frank, the final selling price subtracted that offer.
It's already done.
I can't claw back a million dollars.
In addition, the archdiocese will reimburse her
for her legal and moving expenses.
Or what?
Or I think the story you came to me to prevent from getting out
could get out.
You're extorting the Church?
Oh, come on, Kevin. You came to me.
I came to you as a friend, as an envoy of our Lord.
As a New Yorker looking to get a New York problem fixed,
just like a thousand other folks who came through that door.
Oh, I'm disappointed, Frank.
I'm shocked and I'm dismayed.
Well, don't be. It's just business.
Is it really?
What's that supposed to mean?
It doesn't sound to me like "it's just business."
If it means do I have a personal interest in this,
I do not.
Then why the hard line?
The Trudy Slaughters of this city
are what gives your real estate its outrageous value.
Your profits are built on the pioneering they did
their whole lives.
So consider it a bargain.
For who? You or me?
How's it going over there?
I'm all done.
Mm, good.
So, maybe we can have a little talk?
I feel bad about what I said.
Never feel bad about telling me the truth, okay?
Besides, you... you made me think about some things
I probably should've thought about a long time ago.
Like what?
Like if you and your brother think me being a cop
is too dangerous...
I don't want you to quit.
I just want you to be safe.
Okay.
But from now on, you and your brother do get a vote.
All right?
Everything will be a family decision
because that's what we are and that's what we'll always be,
a family.
Me, you, your brother and your ma.
God rest her soul.
She was brave for you.
We can be brave, too.
I think she'd like that.
(chuckles lightly)
It's not what you expected.
I didn't know what to expect.
== sync, corrected by elderman == @elder_man
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