That's as far as I got with the pics, so here is where I just post the rest of the dialogue and go on my merry way. Cheers! Lemme borrow a couple pictures that were already there...
“Must feel good, huh, Jim?” Marty asks.
“Yeah.”
“All right, what’s up?”
“I dunno, I don’t think he was lying about the murder.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Did he take his glasses off at all?”
“Jim, we’re way past him taking off his glasses.”
“You’re right. And we haven’t found anything that supports the idea of suicide?”
“No, nothing.”
“You going home to change?”
“Why? You saying I look slouchy?”
“How would I know?”
The party. For a moment, everyone’s together. Tom and Marty beg off, leaving the two couples to get acquainted.
Nick Dyson, runner of Vertigo, and money launderer extraordinaire.
“So, what’d he look like? Long hair, a corkscrew hanging around his neck? Red painted pinkie?”
The girls gossip about trunk shows and boys, searching for common ground. Tonight she says she got them at a trunk show, but later it’s a store. Perhaps she has so much jewelry she can’t remember what’s what?
“Karen seems to hold you in high regard.” Good to know, eh?
“I feel the same aobut her.”
“I could tell, she seemed a little nervous about us meeting tonight.”
“I bet she’s watching us right now.”
“Yep, she is. Wave.”
“Why don’t you pretend to try to take my wallet, I’ll take a swing at you. We’ll move some furniture around, see what she does?”
“I’m sure she’d have a heart attack and then she’d kill me, but thanks.”
“I gotta tell you, seeing her a little nervous make me a little nervous, too.”
“Why, you got a warrant out?” Very perceptive, Jimmy!
Walter! It’s about time we met this major catalyst.
“Me and some of the other dinosaurs are hittin’ a spot outside Ketch-a-can, then home, sort some stuff out, maybe look around for some part-time security…”
They discuss Sam Berglass, putting Walter as one of approximately five people who knew Jim Before.
“And it sure as hell wasn’t you who threw Sam out that window…. Shame the kid had to die, but if it puts that dirtbag Doyle away, then the world’s a better place. Am I right?”
“You’re absolutely right.”
Another early morning rendezvous in the locker room.
“What’d you think of Nick?”
“Does he always smell like that? It’s not bad, I just…”
“I’m askin’ a question, you gonna give me static?”
“He seemed like a good guy.”
“Yeah?” she asks, because she wants to make sure. As good of a detective as she is, she wouldn’t know a bad guy if he laundered money in her washing machine.
“I approve.”
“I don’t need your approval.”
“What I said yesterday about making sure that Sam wasn’t a suicide, I think we should follow through on that… I just keep thinking back to when that molestation case fell apart and Sam, he just kept saying that one way or another, Doyle was going to pay. If I’m wrong, I’m wrong, what can it hurt?” Famous last words, Jimmy-boy!
Victoria Purdy revisited. Sam had recently brightened up. The opposite of suicide. She tells them how Sam remodeled. “Gave the place like a thousand percent more light.”
Karen and Jim go back to Sam’s apartment and search it over. After a cursory look, Karen starts the comprehensive investigation, a real trooper. “He was clearing himself a path…” Ominous music. What was that about it can’t hurt to check out, Jim?
“We need to search this place from top to bottom.” And then he sits on the sofa. Totally frustrated.
There’s a claim check for an embroidery place. Sam had Warren embroidered on a Courtland Skating Rink shirt. “Same as Doyle wears. They sell them on line.”
“What does this really prove, though, I mean? He bought a shirt?”
“Yeah, he bought a shirt, he had it embroidered with Doyle’s name, put his own blood all over it, and then planted it in Doyle’s apartment.”
“Jim, you gotta ask though: if Sam was willing to die himself, why didn’t he just kill this guy?”
“Because he didn’t want to kill Doyle. He wanted to punish him, the way he’d been punished. He planned this out perfectly. Guys, you should know, this embroidery place, they have no record of this transaction outside what’s in this room. So if this receipt were to go away, or get lost, Doyle goes away for murder.” Evil Jim rears its little head.
“Doyle a bad guy?” Marty asks.
“Yeah, because all you got are allegations that he molested Sam. We don’t have evidence.”
“I got a kid. Is he still doing this?”
“What do you think? He works at a skating rink.” Sounding a bit like Sister Aloysious there, Detective. “He surrounds himself with young, vulnerable boys, he’s always done that. He knows how to pick ‘em.”
“He’s still just an alleged child molester.”
“He is guilty. He got away with this before, he’s gonna get away with it again.” Have you no Doubt, Jim?
“Suppose this receipt did get lost, you gonna be able to sleep at night?”
In Fisk’s office, Jim and Fisk are being watched by the detectives in the squad.
“Honestly, I wish I never woulda found it.” Jim? Who found it? I know you hated having to sit there, but can’t you give Karen a little bit of credit?
Fisk surprises us all. “This isn’t a situation where you would go harassing the guy, would you? Because he just spent a night in jail for a crime he didn’t commit. If he had provocation and went after you for harassment, he would have a case, which would argue for you keeping your distance… Now, that said, I assume that two years ago you pursued the idea that Warren Doyle molested other kids… I’ve never known a molester to just… quit, right?”
Harassment? Instead of harassing Doyle, Karen and Jim turn their attentions to Ethan Archer, the teen in Doyle’s building. Karen begs off with a phone call, leaving Jim, as always, to interview alone. Jim scares Ethan with the truth about Doyle. Ethan’s answers get very short and shaky. He’s obviously hiding something.
Stan Archer, Ethan’s father, ambushes Karen and Jim at the squad.
“Do you understand what it is we’re investigating here?… And sir, I’ve interviewed a lot of kids, and I think your son is holding something back… So you know for certain that he has no contact with Warren Doyle?”
“This is not about questioning me… You have no right to go near him and if you do it again, you will hear from my attorney.”
Jim heads him off bodily blocking the doorway. “Please just ask yourself, whether your son’s behavior has changed at all since he’s moved into the building. At school, have his grades dropped off at all? Has he become less communicative? Because this all stems from a previous molestation victim of Doyle’s who did not get help, and who threw himself out a seven story window yesterday morning. Ten years from now, you don’t want your son to be that guy.”
“You leave my son alone. Final warning.” Ooh, ouch.
“That road is cut off now. Rethink your direction.”
Coffee with Walter. Smalltalk about the party, a little chitchat about Doyle (“You think too much, Jimmy”), then Walter drops the bomb: “My friend at FBI, Mike Frances, recognized your partner’s boyfriend… They got two of his nightclubs wired, he might be washing money. He’s connected. Also, his name isn’t Nick Dyson, it’s Nick Fosick. He’s got priors in Chicago, car theft, ATM robbery. Got him some time. He did a year. I’ve known Karen for a while, she’s a good kid, a good cop. So I don’t know whether you want to talk to her, or maybe have a sit down with this Nick yourself, or maybe I could call her for lunch?” Ooh, Walter, why’d you have to plant the bad idea in Jim’s head and make his life hell for a few episodes? “Don’t think so much, Jimmy. Ease up on yourself.”
“Just for laughs we rode through Doyle’s neighborhood, checked in with the high school, the local ice cream shop…”
“What’d Walter want?”
“To cheer me up.”
“Looks like that was a rousing success.”
Jill Berglass comes blustering in. “Well, is it temporary or not?”
“Doyle’s not going to be charged with Sam’s murder. We found evidence that Sam took his own life.”
“You said there was a fight!”
“Or did you just lack evidence again?” Au contraire, they had too much evidence.
“There’s not justice for Sam.”
Jill chastises Jim thoroughly. “Shame on you.”
“That was rough.”
“She’s absolutely right.”
And then, like an angel from heaven, comes the key to Doyle’s undoing: Stan Archer was listening, despite his blustering.
They get Doyle back in the interview room.
“This is sick. You’re sick.” He’s looking an awful lot like a petulant child.
“This is not two years ago, Warren. This time, this is not going to fall away… I never thought I’d say this, but for the first time, I’m actually glad I lost my sight. Because when I beat you until your kidney’s bleed, who’s gonna buy you got attacked by a blind guy?”
“What the hell are you doing?”
“I’m getting you situated.”
Jim punches Doyle. Fisk and the detectives flinch. Jim beats Doyle.
“It happened. Like you said.”
“What about Sam?”
“I have a sickness. I’m sick.”
“You got a hell of a left hook.” Things are finally looking up between Marty and Jim.
Karen leaves for a date with Nick.
Jim ponders momentarily, then turns to Hank.
What a better way to end an eppie than with a pic of our darling German shepherd?
--GB
Police brutality is just so not OK , but in this series I must say it adds a spcie I did not expect!
