Disclaimer: The characters, plotlines, quotes, etc. included here are owned by Baltimore Pictures and Fatima Productions in association with NBC Studios, all rights reserved. Homicide was created by Paul Attanasio and based upon David Simon's book Homicide: A Year on the Killing Streets. The following transcript is in no way a substitute for the show Homicide: Life on the Street, it's for educational purposes only. This transcript is not authorized or endorsed by Baltimore Pictures, Fatima Productions, or NBC. It was transcribed by Teri V. and made available for your downloading enjoyment by Laurel Krahn at http://www.windowseat.org/homicide/scripts/.


Credits:

Written by: Noel Behn

Story by: Tom Fontana

Directed by: John McNaughton

Executive Producers: Barry Levinson & Tom Fontana

Daniel Baldwin as Det. Beau Felton

Richard Belzer as Det. John Munch

Andre Braugher as Det. Frank Pembleton

Clark Johnson as Det. Meldrick Lewis

Yaphet Kotto as Lt. Al Giardello

Melissa Leo as Det. Kay Howard

Jon Polito as Det. Steve Crosetti

Kyle Secor as Det. Tim Bayliss

and

Ned Beatty as Det. Stanley Bolander

Zelkjo Ivanek as ASA Ed Danvers

Ralph Tabakin as Dr. Scheiner

Herb Levinson as Dr. Lausanne

Julianna Marguiles as Linda

Adrienne Shelly as Tanya

Scott Neilson as Jeremy

Cheryl Donaldson as Molly Sullivan

Julie Lauren as Officer Schane

Sal S. Koussa as Mitchell Forman

Stan Kelly as Ed Grady

Jane Beard as Mrs. Newdow

Dan Garrett as Chris Novoselic

Mary L. Watson as Mrs. Prince

TEASER

(A park, outside. MUNCH and BOLANDER are walking to a crime scene. BOLANDER is clearly in a good mood, almost bubbly.)

MUNCH: 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 moving around inside, but she won't come to the door. She won't even come to the window. It's over, finito.

BOLANDER: I love nature. It fills me up. Trees, flowers and sky.

MUNCH: It's all ragweed, pollen and bird droppings. The closest I want to get to nature is that series on PBS.

BOLANDER: In winter, things that are dead suddenly bloom in the spring.

MUNCH: What?

BOLANDER: You step back and…you look at the cycle of nature, the miracle of it.

MUNCH: Excuse me?

BOLANDER: You've got to believe in the possibility of miracles.

MUNCH: 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?

BOLANDER: I know you're hurting, John. If I could wish the pain away, if I could take it on for you, I would.

MUNCH: 'John?' Since when do you call me John? Since when do you know I even have a first name?

(They reach the crime scene. BOLANDER puts a comforting hand on MUNCH'S shoulder and gives it a squeeze. MUNCH stares down at it. LAUSANNE is leaning over the victims, an elderly couple sitting against a tree, holding hands.)

LAUSANNE: A homeless couple. This guy was out with his dog, hunting for some truffles and morels, he comes across these two.

BOLANDER: They were found holdings hands like that?

LAUSANNE: Yeah. We recovered a handful of prescription bottles back at their tent. One of them was on some heavy-duty heart medicines. It's sad, this kind of stuff.

BOLANDER: They weren't sad. Look how they're sitting there, holding onto each other. They sit down facing East to catch the first light of day. They sit down there to catch whatever winds would take them on the journey they're going on. (Walks away.)

MUNCH: (watches BOLANDER leave, then to LAUSANNE) You sure there's nothing left in those prescription bottles?

OPENING CREDITS

(Headquarters. HOWARD comes up the stairs. BOLANDER meets her at the top.)

BOLANDER: Kay.

HOWARD: Stanley.

BOLANDER: I want you.

HOWARD: Huh?

BOLANDER: I need you.

HOWARD: Me?

BOLANDER: I'm in love.

HOWARD: Well –

BOLANDER: Have dinner with me. Tonight.

HOWARD: Dinner?

BOLANDER: Please.

HOWARD: Well –

BOLANDER: You pick the place. Someplace romantic.

HOWARD: Stanley –

BOLANDER: Are you still going with that guy? That Danvers guy who's Assistant State's Attorney?

HOWARD: Yeah.

BOLANDER: OK, good. Good. Good. I want you both.

HOWARD: Where, exactly, is this conversation going?

BOLANDER: I'm asking you to double date.

HOWARD: Oh... (starts laughing)

BOLANDER: (somewhat confused) Yeah, what'd'ya think? I mean, come on. I'm gonna bring a date for myself. This girl, woman. Linda. We've been seeing a lot of each other, OK, but this is our first real date so I want you and Danvers to come along and, you know, take the pressure off, take the edge off.

HOWARD: Ah…

BOLANDER: She's special. She is. I think I'm in love.

HOWARD: Love?

BOLANDER: Yeah, so would you break bread with us?

HOWARD: Can I refuse?

BOLANDER: You're gorgeous, you know that? You are. And wherever you decide, that's where were going to go. I'm picking up the tab. I want it to be, you know, top drawer. Money is no object. We'll have wine. We'll have caviar. We'll have flowers on the table. Hey, could you find a place with music and dancing?

HOWARD: Are you gonna dance?

BOLANDER: Everything up to and including the woolly-bully.

HOWARD: That I would pay to see. (They continue walking toward the squadroom.)

––––––

(An apartment bedroom. The body of ANGELA FRANDINA is lying on the bed. BAYLISS is standing over her, examining the marks around her throat. PEMBLETON is standing next to him.)

BAYLISS: She's been strangled.

PEMBLETON: (Makes a sound of agreement, then takes a crumpled ball of paper out of her hand and reads it.) Oh, 'Ed did it.'

SCHANNE: (standing next to PEMBLETON) He did, huh?

PEMBLETON: Yeah, that’s what the note says. 'Ed did it.'

SCHANNE: Who's Ed?

PEMBLETON: 'Ed' is Ed. That’s my guess.

SCHANNE: Mine, too, then.

PEMBLETON: Don't you just love when the victim leaves a note ID-ing who it?

SCHANNE: She's very considerate.

PEMBLETON: Isn't she?

BAYLISS: So where's the one who found her?

SCHANNE: The next-door neighbor? She's next door.

BAYLISS: (to photographer as he leaves bedroom) Go ahead. (FRANDINA's picture is taken.)

––––––

(MOLLY SULLIVAN'S kitchen. MOLLY and JEREMY are seated at the table, holding hands. She has been crying. PEMBLETON is also seated. BAYLISS is standing.)

BAYLISS: And her name was Frandina? F-r-a-n-…

MOLLY: …d-i-n-a…

BAYLISS: …d-i-n-a…

MOLLY: That's right. Angela Frandina.

BAYLISS: And, you have a key to her apartment?

MOLLY: 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.

PEMBLETON: You live here, Jeremy?

JEREMY: Sort of. We've known each other since high school.

BAYLISS: (to SULLIVAN) And you work until six a.m.?

MOLLY: At a law firm, typing briefs. Poor Angela. I mean, she was such a wonderful person.

JEREMY: Yeah.

PEMBLETON: Who's Ed?

MOLLY: Ed? Ed who?

PEMBLETON: Well, who's an 'Ed' that Angela might know? (JEREMY gives an 'I don't know' shrug.)

BAYLISS: Did Angela have a boyfriend?

JEREMY: Yeah. Plenty.

MOLLY: Jeremy. (to BAYLISS and PEMBLETON) 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.

PEMBLETON: So what did Angela do for a living?

MOLLY: She worked at a clothing store. The Leather Chain, over on Broadway. (begins crying) Why is she dead?

JEREMY: (holding Sullivan, to Bayliss and Pembleton) Ask for Tanya. She's the manager.

(253 FRANDINA goes on the Board.)

––––––

(Headquarters, in the garage. FELTON and HOWARD are walking, goofing off a little. MUNCH catches up with them, steps in between them as they continue walking.)

MUNCH: Hey, wait a minute. Wait a minute. Stanley has a girlfriend?

HOWARD: I don't get the impression that she can officially be classified as 'girlfriend.'

MUNCH: Why wouldn't he tell me he's got a girlfriend?

HOWARD: I'm sure he has his reasons.

FELTON: Hey Munch, chill out. You're acting like a betrayed wife.

MUNCH: (to FELTON) Hold on a second, Beau, OK. You don't ride with him, alright. You don't tell him your innermost feelings. You don't buy him his garlic bagels for his blood pressure, either. (to HOWARD) He asked you on a double date? Do you know how many times I've asked him to double date? Do you know what he does? He spits in my face.

HOWARD: He wants to go someplace fancy. He wants flowers on the table. He's popping for the whole thing.

MUNCH: And where is this extravaganza from which I'm excluded?

HOWARD: I'm not gonna say. He didn't invite you, it's not for me to say, right?

MUNCH: Kay, you gotta tell me.

HOWARD: I'm not gonna talk outta line.

FELTON: She's no Judas. (puts his arm around her.)

MUNCH: Say what you will about Judas, but he had his good points. If it wasn't for him, the whole show wouldn't have gotten underway in the first place, t'sabe? Kay?

FELTON: Kay, please tell him, OK? Or he'll be whining all whole shift long.

––––––

(The Leather Chain. TANYA, a pale and petite redhead, is leaning with her back to the counter facing BAYLISS and PEMBLETON.)

BAYLISS: You and Angela were friends, right?

TANYA: I… I wouldn't call us friends, exactly. We shared similar fantasies.

BAYLISS: Angela ever mention anyone that she was angry with? That she didn't like?

TANYA: Angela didn't like a lot of people. She wasn't afraid to say so. (to Bayliss) But she would've liked you.

BAYLISS: Great.

TANYA: (to PEMBLETON) Detective Pembleton, are you married?

PEMBLETON: (from one of the clothing racks) Um..yeah.

TANYA: Wouldn't your wife look just fabulous in that? (She indicates a mannequin wearing a black leather bra, panties and garter ensemble.)

PEMBLETON: (looks at the mannequin) Why, yes. Yes, she would.

TANYA: (holds up a leather jacket) Feel this.

PEMBLETON: Oh, that's nice.

TANYA: There's nothing like the feel or smell of new leather. (PEMBLETON leans in to smell the jacket.) It's horsehide.

PEMBLETON: Horsehide? Like Mr. Ed and Sea Hero?

TANYA: Uh-huh. Horsehide is warmer, so that when you're riding your bike, you can wear this and nothing underneath. (holds jacket up to BAYLISS) Here, try it on?

BAYLISS: (sarcastic) Yeah, this and the chaps. (looks over at PEMBLETON, annoyed)

TANYA: Come on. Just 'cause you're working doesn't mean you can't have fun.

PEMBLETON: Yeah, Tim, come on, try it on –

BAYLISS: No! I said 'no,' Frank. Alright?

TANYA: Okay. (PEMBLETON laughs) You can't blame a girl for trying to make a sale, can you?

BAYLISS: Depends on what she's selling. Who's Ed?

TANYA: Ed's her boss.

BAYLISS: You mean the owner of this place?

TANYA: No. Her other boss from her other job. Angela worked two jobs. She had bills to pay.

PEMBLETON: What's Ed's last name?

TANYA: I don't know.

BAYLISS: What was her other job?

TANYA: She answered phones.

BAYLISS: You mean at the phone company?

TANYA: No, no, you know. One of those 900 numbers.

PEMBLETON: Oh, you mean like the Home Shopping Network.

TANYA: She'd talk dirty to people.

BAYLISS: (quiet) I beg your pardon.

TANYA: You know. She gave phone sex.

––––––

(GIARDELLO'S office. GIARDELLO is seated at his desk, while MUNCH is walking around the office.)

MUNCH: ________ split up I thought we were finished with the love songs of J. Stanley Bolander.

GIARDELLO: I want the paperwork on that double suicide. I don't care if it's in rhyming couplets, I want it finished.

MUNCH: It's finished, it's on my desk –

GIARDELLO: Then it should be on my desk.

MUNCH: I gotta get loverboy Stanley to sign off on it.

GIARDELLO: (gets up, walks around his desk so he's sitting on the edge) I'm getting hell from the bosses because of sloppy paperwork. I don't need that on top of everything else.

MUNCH: My point is, he's acting strange –

GIARDELLO: Munch…

MUNCH: Did you notice how he's dressing? (GIARDELLO sighs) He's wearing a tie today that has design and color. He's got socks that stay up over his ankles. Yesterday, we stop in traffic, he gets out of the car — he starts dancing. Out of the clear blue sky he's doing the damn hokey-pokey in midday traffic. I'm a professional civil servant. I can't afford being embarrassed in public like that –

GIARDELLO: (exasperated) Munch. (He puts an arm around MUNCH to guide him toward the door.) The report, on my desk, at the end of the shift. Understood?

MUNCH: (stops to face GIARDELLO) Where's my old Stanley…

GIARDELLO: Oh my God. (walks back to his desk)

MUNCH: I can't get up in the morning, I can't face the day unless I know he's going to be more miserable than me. The whole world's out of whack, Gee. You gotta do something.

GIARDELLO: Like what?

MUNCH: Order him to be miserable again.

GIARDELLO: Oh, stop…

MUNCH: You're the boss. It's for the common good. It's a public safety issue, the guy's dancing in traffic. There's got to be something on the books to forbid happiness. It's…it's unprofessional.

GEE: It's those sensitivity sessions. I knew they'd come back to haunt me. (sits back down at his desk.) I had this fear that something bad would come from those sessions. I thought maybe Bayliss, maybe Lewis, maybe even you. But never, ever Stanley.

MUNCH: You want your paperwork? Give me back my old Stanley.

GEE: Send the Big Man in here.

MUNCH: That's all I ask. (leaves office.)

––––––

(BAYLISS and PEMBLETON are standing outside of Eastern Shores Marketing. PEMBLETON taps on the door. No response. BAYLISS knocks harder. An elderly woman peeks though the blinds.)

PEMBLETON: (holds up his badge) How're you doing, Ma'am? Baltimore City Police.

(She opens the door to let them in. Inside there are cubicles, each one with an extremely ordinary person talking on a phone headset.)

WOMAN 1: Yes, I'm blond… Yes… Oh, I am jealous… I just hate seeing you with all those other girls…

MAN: My parents don't know either… This is our secret… Here… On the beach…

WOMAN 2: (frantically searching her desk for something) No. No… I don't know… Let me… (to WOMAN 3 at the next desk) I can't find the "Cold Shower" script. (WOMAN 3 hands her the script.)

WOMAN 2: (flips the script to the right page and begins reading.) Oh…I like it when you let me see it...

(BAYLISS and PEMBLETON take in all this activity. BAYLISS, in particular, looks a bit startled.)

(ED'S office)

BAYLISS: You must be very proud. You've got quite an operation here, huh Ed?

ED: I got thirty women working for me, three shifts around the clock. And a couple of guys because that side of the business is really picking up.

BAYLISS: The sleaze business, right, Ed?

ED: We deal in fantasy.

BAYLISS: (sarcastic, to PEMBLETON) Oh…

ED: (holds up a script) 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. (PEMBLETON takes the script and looks through it.)

BAYLISS: It's a lie, Ed. You're working from a script. You're cheating your customers. There's got to be some statute against this. You know, we got…laws against smoking, right, Frank, but we got no laws against this? (PEMBLETON looks up, then goes back to the script.)

ED: 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 that that doesn't sound like a basketball game on TV.

PEMBLETON: Angela Frandina is dead.

ED: What?

PEMBLETON: Angela was found murdered this morning

BAYLISS: She was strangled.

ED: Oh my God. I don't believe it. What you're saying is obscene.

PEMBLETON: Angela tells us that you killed her. (shows ED the note, now in a bag.) Here.

ED: With this note she says it, me?

BAYLISS: Ed did it?

PEMBLETON: That's what she writes. 'Ed did it.'

ED: (examines the note) Angela didn't write that note. (PEMBLETON makes sound of disbelief. ED holds up a postcard.) This is her handwriting. That's how Angela signs her name. That, what you got there in that bag, that's not Angela's handwriting. Angela's is big, like valentines.

PEMBLETON: I'd like to hold onto this. (puts both notes in his inside coat pocket.)

ED: Yeah, help yourself.

BAYLISS: Angela have any boyfriends?

ED: Yeah. Sure.

BAYLISS: Any boyfriend who wanted her dead?

ED: Well, Chris…Novoselic, her last boy toy, was…was weird.

PEMBLETON: What made him weird?

ED: He always wore chains and leather. He worked in that club on Fayette Street.

PEMBLETON: What club?

ED: I don't know, the one where they tie each other up, where they whip each other. What the hell's the name of that place? Um…the Eve of Destruction.

PEMBLETON: Oh yeah, Eve of Destruction. (BAYLISS looks up at PEMBLETON'S recognition of the place.) Sure.

ED: Who'd want a pretty girl like that dead? You know, I expect her to walk in the door any minute. (glances down at his watch.) Jeez, it's almost time for her shift. If she's dead, I gotta get a replacement. Now where the hell am I gonna get somebody at the last minute? She was a real favorite with the lunch crowd and the rush hour. (BAYLISS and PEMBLETON are already on their way out.) She really loved those carphone freaks.

(Outside Eastern Shores Telemarketing. BAYLISS and PEMBLETON are walking back to their car.)

PEMBLETON: (looking at the note) Hey, E.–D. E.D. Eve of Destruction. ED. Ed –

BAYLISS: No, no, no, no. Eve of Destruction is E.O.D.

PEMBLETON: Well, not necessarily. 'Ed did it.' That's someone who works there, frequents there –

BAYLISS: No. Frank, Frank. This note, it's a red herring. It's to throw us off. (they reach the car.)

PEMBLETON: Well, somebody left it for us, somebody wanted us to find it.

BAYLISS: 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? (gestures back to ED's.) I don't know. How'd she end up being strangled? (he gets in the car.)

––––––

(Headquarters. GIARDELLO and BOLANDER are walking on the roof.)

GIARDELLO: How old is she?

BOLANDER: Twenty-six.

GIARDELLO: How old?

BOLANDER: Twenty-six, alright? I should have my head examined, right? (they stop at the fence)

GIARDELLO: You should. She'll end up breaking your heart.

BOLANDER. Thanks. I appreciate your good wishes.

GIARDELLO: You're blind, Stanley.

BOLANDER: That's what love is supposed to do, isn't it?

GIARDELLO: I mean, I wish you could see yourself right now.

BOLANDER: How 'bout you see yourself?

GIARDELLO: Me?

BOLANDER: Yeah, you. I mean, you. What's going on with you, huh? What do you got better? Your wife died seven years ago, and you are still grieving. (GIARDELLO tries to interrupt but BOLANDER continues.) I don't mean any disrespect here, alright? But it's seven long years and what is going on with you?

GIARDELLO: I…I…have not… I'm not grieving.

BOLANDER: You are still dating the same two women from five years ago. One of them you 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.

GIARDELLO: I have just not found the right person, okay?

BOLANDER: Yeah, and you know what? You're not going to. Because you're comfortable being the same miserable son-of-a-bitch that you were the day that she died. I'm happy. I'm happier than I can ever remember being. I dunno, 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?

GIARDELLO: Wow. I think this is all terrific. Man, I'm jealous.

BOLANDER: I'd be jealous, too. I got lucky.

GIARDELLO: How lucky?

BOLANDER: Not that lucky. (both start laughing.) I haven't kissed her yet. But I thought, maybe, I don't know. Maybe tonight. After dinner…

GIARDELLO: After dinner…

BOLANDER: Well…

GIARDELLO: Oh, man. Stanley, I'm pleased for you. I'm pleased and jealous. And my only advice to you is: use a rubber. (BOLANDER smiles and nods.)

––––––

(A library. LEWIS walks to the reference section, where MAX ZINTAK is lying sprawled on the floor. CROSETTI is already there.)

CROSETTI: Either it's murder or this library has a very strict overdue book policy.

LEWIS: (chuckles) Let's go chat with our star witness. (They leave the body and go to the desk where MRS. NEWDOW is waiting.)

LEWIS: Miss Newdow –

NEWDOW: – Mrs.– Newdow. (holds up her hand so they can see her wedding ring.) Everyone always assumes librarians are old maids.

LEWIS: Sorry. You mind telling us your story, please?

NEWDOW: Well…the man who got shot and the man who shot the man who got shot were talking.

CROSETTI: Did they come in with each other?

NEWDOW: No –

CROSETTI: Were they together when they –

NEWDOW: No. And I don't think they even knew each other. But they were having a conversation. I even had to tell them to shush once.

LEWIS: They were arguing?

NEWDOW: No, not at all. Very friendly. The man who shot the man who got shot asked to borrow the man who got shot's pen. Oh, sure, very polite. Then, he went back to his table and he scribbled something down on a pad, and he 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 asked to buy it from him. The man who got shot said, 'Well, it's just a $1.49 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 he shot him. He just kept on firing. It was very noisy. I ducked down here behind the counter. Suddenly there was silence, and I stayed down here a long while. I wasn't sure if the man had left yet –

LEWIS: There was no arguing, no yelling, no fighting?

NEWDOW: None.

CROSETTI: It sounds like –

NEWDOW: (exasperated) What I'm saying is, the only reason he blew him away was over a $1.49 pen.

––––––

(Medical Examiner's office, with a number of bodies laid out on gurneys. SCHEINER, PEMBLETON and BAYLISS are standing over ANGELA FRANDINA.)

SCHEINER: No, it wasn't rape.

PEMBLETON: There was nothing under her fingernails?

SCHEINER: Nothing to indicate a struggle. Her nails were clean of blood, hair and skin tissue.

PEMBLETON: But there was the presence of semen.

BAYLISS: Hmm…Consensual sex.

SCHEINER: Listen, I don't know about that. I only know there wasn't any fight.

BAYLISS: Yeah, well, maybe this guy held a gun to her head? Huh, Frank?

SCHEINER: How many autopsies have you been through, and still you never pick it up? (indicates the marks around her neck.)

PEMBLETON: What? They're ligature marks.

SCHEINER: From a belt. A belt with distinctive pattern, of either metal studs or hard, glassy beads.

PEMBLETON: OK, so we find the belt we find the killer.

SCHEINER: I'm about to slice her open and check the hyoid bone in her neck. Want to take odds that it's broken?

PEMBLETON: That's all right, but have yourself a ball. (BAYLISS and PEMBLETON leave the ME's)

SCHEINER: (to an assistant) Will…the knife, please.

––––––

(Library. ZINTAK is wheeled out of the library. LEWIS and CROSETTI are sitting on a table, watching at the body is rolled out.)

LEWIS: There's gotta be more to this than a lousy five-and-dime ink pen.

CROSETTI: Well, maybe not. Remember that kid who stabbed his younger brother over –

LEWIS: Yeah, sneakers. Baltimore, home of the misdemeanor homicide. What's the body's name again?

CROSETTI: (consults his notes) Max Zintak.

LEWIS: Zintak?

CROSETTI: Yeah. (both start walking around)

LEWIS: I don't know, we run his name in the computer, we see if he comes up a drug twirler or something.

CROSETTI: Who? Max Zintak?

LEWIS: Yeah. Who else?

CROSETTI: Meldrick, when you see a horse with stripes on it, you call it a zebra.

LEWIS: Now what is that little bit of Neopolitan logic supposed to mean.

CROSETTI: I'm the one who's always thinking about conspiracies. You know, always looking for something more than what's there. But this…this is a murder that is exactly what is – it's a man who shoots another man over a pen.

LEWIS: If the guy wanted the pen bad enough to kill for it, why would he leave it here? (He holds up the pen in question, drops it in a plastic bag.)

(254 ZINTAK goes on the board.)

––––––

(Eve of Destruction. Dark, loud. NOVOSELIC walks in, bald and with no shirt but wearing a leather vest. He has his arm around a young woman, dark-haired and waif-ish. Both have a number of piercings.)

NOVOSELIC: (to BAYLISS) Sorry to keep you waiting. Where were we?

BAYLISS: Frank? (PEMBLETON, talking to someone at the other end of the bar, comes over.) Ah, let's see… You were saying how Angela first started coming here about three months ago.

NOVOSELIC: That's the first time I noticed her. Some people come in, hide in the shadows, just wanting to watch.

BAYLISS: Watch what?

NOVOSELIC: Whatever goes on any given night. (looks at the girl) Wherever your imagination can take you.

PEMBLETON: So, uh…you and Angela got involved.

NOVOSELIC: For about a month. She was quite a gal.

PEMBLETON: So why'd you break up with her?

NOVOSELIC: Why does anybody break up?

BAYLISS: (gets in NOVOSELIC'S face.) Hey, Pal, we want some answers. If you don't give me these answers, I'm gonna slap some cuffs on you, take you downtown and knock you around! You got that? (getting angry)

NOVOSELIC: You do that, I might have to kiss you. (he leans in toward BAYLISS, just slightly. BAYLISS loses it, grabs NOVOSELIC and slams him against the wall.)

PEMBLETON: (puts a hand on BAYLISS'S shoulder) Whoa, big boy! Whoa –

BAYLISS: (shakes off the hand) Get back, Frank!

NOVOSELIC: (to PEMBLETON) It's alright. (to BAYLISS) You push me around. You 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. (BAYLISS lets him go) Only difference between you and me is that you got a badge. You play if for real. Me, I'm only skin pop in a fantasy. Around here we let each other know when we've gone too far.

BAYLISS: Angela –

NOVOSELIC: It's play-acting –

BAYLISS: Angela –

NOVOSELIC: It's pretend –

BAYLISS: – Frandina has a leather belt around her throat. Now –she– is not acting. She is dead.

NOVOSELIC: She didn't understand there have to be limits. That's why I stopped _______.

(Night. PEMBLETON is driving. BAYLISS is still agitated.)

BAYLISS: Tell me that you don't find all of this porno stuff, all this phone sex and S&M stuff, disgusting.

PEMBLETON: Well, Bayliss, that's just the way of the world. It's been this way forever. When they dug through the ruins of Pompeii, they found, written on the walls: 'An vere fama susrrat grandia te medii tenta vorare viri.' It's a long, roundabout way of saying 'fellatio.' St. Ignatius High, New York City. Yeah, I had to do something to make Latin class interesting.

BAYLISS: Granted, listen, perversion has existed since the beginning of time. Alright, we see it everywhere, but that doesn't mean that I am willing to accept that.

PEMBLETON: Well, in any given ten square feet of this great country, there are people who think it's perverted for a person of your color and my color to sleep together.

BAYLISS: No, Frank. I'm not talking about prejudice. What I'm talking about is kinky sexual acts. Dehumanizing acts between two human beings, alright. Sex is love. Period. This I believe.

PEMBLETON: Oh, yeah right. So if a beautiful woman passes you on the street, you smile at her. Ooh, she smiles back. You're not thinking about marriage, you're thinking of her in a French maid's outfit. Bent over a straight back chair –

BAYLISS: No, no, I don't. I don't think that way, Frank.

PEMBLETON: Oh, well you're either a liar or you're a moron. If you're a liar, then fine. At least you've got a chance. But if you're a moron, then you're just a bore, y'know. I'm gonna have to take you out back and shoot you just to put you out of your misery.

BAYLISS: Wait a minute. I don't think dirty so I can't understand the criminal mind. Is that it, huh? I mean….I…I…I don't want to kill someone, so I can't get into the killer's head, is that it Frank? I don't think about molesting some child so I don't how to investigate Adena Watson's murder, is that what you're saying?

PEMBLETON: Then you really are a moron, aren't you!?

BAYLISS: No, I'm not a moron, Frank!

PEMBLETON: OK, let me tell you something. We're all guilty of something. Cruelty, or greed, or going 65 in a 55-mile-per-hour zone. But you know what? You want to think about yourself as the fair-haired choirboy, you go ahead.

BAYLISS: Alright. OK, so, what're you saying, huh?

PEMBLETON: I'm saying you got a darkness. You, Tim Bayliss, you got a darkness inside of you. You gotta know the uglier, darker sides of yourself. You gotta recognize them so they're not constantly sneaking up on you. You gotta love them 'cause they're part of you. Because along with your virtues, they make you who you are. Virtue isn't virtue until it slams up against vice. So consequently, your virtue's not real virtue, until it's been tested. Tempted.

(BAYLISS listens intently to PEMBLETON'S words.)

––––––

(Squadroom. CROSETTI walks in.)

CROSETTI: Meldrick?

LEWIS: (at his desk) Yo.

CROSETTI: Got a positive ID from the fingerprints on that pen.

LEWIS: Uh-huh?

CROSETTI: Aside from the late Mr. Zintak, we have a thumb and a forefinger print of a Mitchell Forman. This one's only got a couple of disorderly conduct –

LEWIS: Any drug arrests?

CROSETTI: No, no, no. But he…spent a little time in Spring Grove.

LEWIS: Spring Grove? Insane asylum.

CROSETTI: You don't say insane anymore, Meldrick. You say, mental health disorder.

LEWIS: Yeah, yeah, yeah.

CROSETTI: And you don't say asylum anymore, you say…uh, you say, diagnostic center.

LEWIS: The nutcase has done time in a loony bin.

CROSETTI: You got it. Maybe this'll help explain what went down.

LEWIS: Not really.

CROSETTI: I got a current address on this Forman. Come on, let's go wrap this thing up. (they head out of the squadroom.)

LEWIS: You know, Crosetti. My grandmother gave me this pen. (shows him a gold pen) Right before she went into surgery for the last time, she took my mother by the hand and she said, 'Buy Meldrick a gold pen.' I love this pen.

CROSETTI: You serious?

LEWIS: I love this pen, but not enough to die for it.

––––––

(Le Ciel Bleu, an elegant restaurant. BOLANDER, HOWARD, DANVERS and LINDA are finishing dinner.)

BOLANDER: I surrender. No more.

DANVERS: Gluttons for punishment, all of us.

HOWARD: (scraping off what's left on her plate) You're gonna regret those marinated sweetbreads with truffles and garlic. I don't want to hear about it later on.

DANVERS: How can you still be mad at me? You had two creme brulees.

HOWARD: (quietly) You have a very delicate stomach, hmm? And I'm not mad. (LINDA coughs to break the tension)

DANVERS: (turns to the other couple) So, you and Stanley are practicing a duet, huh?

LINDA: Yeah, over at the Peabody. Handel's Pasigalia. Stanley on cello, me on violin.

DANVERS: When do we get to hear it.

BOLANDER: Never. (laughter at the table)

LINDA: No, not never –

BOLANDER: I can't get the bowing right.

LINDA: You will, when the moment is right. Right now, you're still worried about the tension in the strings. (She scoots her chair closer to his, and takes his arm and guides it like he's drawing his bow.) You're afraid you'll miss the moment when the bow should draw across. You're scared that the music's gonna come from your head and not from your heart…

(LINDA and BOLANDER begin humming the music, eyes closed. HOWARD is enjoying it. DANVERS looks bored. As the camera circles, MUNCH appears in the restaurant, standing behind HOWARD and observing the scene. He comes over to their table and add an annoying, whiny accompaniment to the humming. LINDA and BOLANDER stop.)

BOLANDER: Every fairy tale has its nightmare, and this is mine.

MUNCH: De gustibus to you, Pal. (Hands BOLANDER the report.) Why don't you sign off on the double suicide so I can slink back into the night? Maybe I should put my name on that list of miserable deaths.

BOLANDER: Now there's an idea.

LINDA: Are you Munch?

MUNCH: I have to plead the Fifth on that.

LINDA: Well, sit down.

MUNCH: Am I allowed?

BOLANDER: Um…well, we're just getting through here. There's nothing but dirty dishes and stuff. We're waiting for the check – can we have a check over here, please?

––––––

(Forman's apartment building. MRS. PRINCE'S office.)

PRINCE: I'm the concierge. My husband was the concierge, but he died so now I'm the concierge.

CROSETTI: Do you know when Mr. uh…

LEWIS: …Forman…

CROSETTI: …Forman will be back?

PRINCE: Don't know. Don't know if he's ever coming back.

LEWIS: Is he married?

PRINCE: Yeah, sure.

LEWIS: Has he ever been married? Do you know that?

PRINCE: I doubt it but, hey, anything's possible, right?

LEWIS: (Knocks on the window dividing them. Speaks a little louder and slower.) Does he have any family at all?

PRINCE: (louder) I don't know.

CROSETTI: How long has he been living here?

PRINCE: Fifteen, sixteen years.

CROSETTI: Fifteen years, you don't know if he has any family?

PRINCE: Look, I don't pry into my guest's lives. I give them a clean room, a bath down the hall, and free use of the ice machines. That's all.

LEWIS: Ms. Prince, do you know that when Mr. Forman shot Mr. Zintak, he left the pen sitting right there on the table? He didn't even take it with him, now don't that seem a little bit odd to you?

PRINCE: 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.

LEWIS: (quiet voice) Yeah, but has he ever killed for a pen before, Ms. Prince?

CROSETTI: Would you mind if we had a look in his room?

PRINCE: Sure. (PRINCE leads the way.)

LEWIS: Damn _______.

––––––

(FORMAN's apartment, dark. LEWIS and CROSETTI enter with guns drawn, then CROSETTI turns on the light. There are, literally, pens everywhere: crates full of them, hanging on clotheslines across the room, coming out of wall fixtures, strewn on the floor. The room is also decorated with Christmas lights. The detectives look around, stunned. There are quiet exclamations of amazement.)

LEWIS: Thousands of pens, Crosetti. Look at them.

––––––

(The Leather Chain. TANYA is at the counter. BAYLISS and PEMBLETON walk in.)

BAYLISS: Hi.

TANYA: Didn't I see you at the Eve of Destruction last night?

BAYLISS: Let's just get this over with, OK?

PEMBLETON: What can you show me in a leather belt?

TANYA: What kind of leather belt?

PEMBLETON: One about two inches wide with studs or beads.

TANYA: (Walks over to one of the racks.) Hmm, I sell a lot of belts, but that one only comes with this kind of jacket. (Takes a leather jacket off a rack and hands it to BAYLISS. Both detectives examine it.)

PEMBLETON: OK, bingo. This is the same kind of belt. (pulls off the belt) Metal studs in a diamond pattern.

BAYLISS: (hands jacket back to TANYA) Now, did you ever sell one of these jackets to Chris Novoselic?

TANYA: Novoselic? That jerk, he's too cheap.

PEMBLETON: What about Ed Grady?

TANYA: Him, I wouldn't even let him in my store. I'm very particular about my customers.

PEMBLETON: Well let me ask you, did Angela ever buy one of these jackets for herself or for a friend, you know, like with an employee discount?

TANYA: Yeah, yeah she bought one of these. For Molly…what's-her-name…

BAYLISS: Sullivan?

TANYA: Yeah, her neighbor. Molly was very particular about this jacket.

(BAYLISS and PEMBLETON sigh.)

––––––

(MOLLY SULLIVAN'S apartment. MOLLY is seated, BAYLISS and PEMBLETON are standing.)

PEMBLETON: _______ from the Leather Chain, showing that you used your credit card to purchase a black, leather motorcycle jacket. (hands her the credit card receipt.)

MOLLY: (looks over the receipt) Yeah, the jacket was a present for Jeremy.

BAYLISS: Jeremy, your boyfriend? (MOLLY nods)

PEMBLETON: Where is Jeremy now?

MOLLY: He's out. The jacket was for his birthday. He loves that jacket. He says it brings him luck.

BAYLISS: Is Jeremy wearing the jacket this evening?

MOLLY: No, he's at dinner with his grandparents. He's wearing his suit.

BAYLISS: Would you show us this lucky jacket of Jeremy's?

MOLLY: Sure. It's hanging… (MOLLY goes over to closet, with BAYLISS and PEMBLETON following.)

BAYLISS: (points to jacket) This it?

MOLLY: (pulls out jacket.) – here it is. Beautiful, huh?

BAYLISS: (looks over jacket) Hm-mm…

MOLLY: It's horsehide. Horsehide's warmer –

PEMBLETON: Yeah, we heard.

BAYLISS: Now where's the belt that goes to this jacket?

MOLLY: The belt?

BAYLISS: Yeah. Didn't this jacket come with a belt?

MOLLY: It did. Where is the belt?

PEMBLETON: Maybe Jeremy lost the belt.

MOLLY: I'll kill him if he did. (She continues looking around in the closet. BAYLISS looks back at PEMBLETON.)

––––––

(Le Ciel Bleu. The restaurant is nearly empty as the busboys stand around watching the lone occupied table. MUNCH is sitting between BOLANDER and HOWARD, and nobody looks happy. HOWARD seems particularly morose and lost in thought.)

MUNCH: 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 asks me. But I love Felicia beyond the immediate 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?

LINDA: (looks almost amused) Hm-mm.

MUNCH: 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…

HOWARD: What bay window?

MUNCH: Or some window that you got, whatever looks onto the street.

HOWARD: Oh, yeah.

MUNCH: The rains will be falling, those first hard, vicious rains of the season, and you'll wonder what exactly it was that broke you and Danvers up.

DANVERS: Wait a minute –

MUNCH: You know what I'm saying, Danvers. I can tell by your tone of voice, you know. You've been in that window looking down, haven't you? 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'll 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.

BOLANDER: Munch, if you don't shut up, and shut up fast, I'll gut ya.

MUNCH: The truth hurts, doesn't it Stanley?

HOWARD: God, life is so depressing. Love is hopeless.

DANVERS: Come on, Kay, I'll take you home.

HOWARD: No. No, Ed. I need to be alone tonight. Good night. (leaves table)

DANVERS: (follows, but on the way out leans in close to MUNCH) Thanks a lot, Munch.

BOLANDER: Come on, Linda, let's go too. I'll deal with you in the morning, and don't look forward to it. (BOLANDER and LINDA stand up from the table.)

LINDA: But Stanley, we can't just leave him. Come on.

––––––

(Headquarters. On the roof, but the open part above the street. FORMAN is on the edge and LEWIS has obviously been trying to talk him down.)

FORMAN: Someone would write my life story. I am Ahab, the orphaned son –

LEWIS: Mr. Forman, what I need for you to do right now is…I need to talk to you about the shooting.

FORMAN: I did it.

LEWIS: Yeah, I know that.

FORMAN: That's why I came here…

LEWIS: I know that…

FORMAN: …to turn myself in. But now, I've changed my mind. (He turns back toward the edge, and the crowd below begins screaming).

LEWIS: No, Mr. Forman! Listen to me, Mr. Forman. Please, look at me here. Please, concentrate. Now listen to me.

FOREMAN: I wanted that pen.

LEWIS: I know that.

FORMAN: I offered to pay for that pen.

LEWIS: I know that. I know.

FORMAN: I loved that pen.

LEWIS: I know you did, Sir. But lemme just tell you something. Let me make you a deal. Listen, now – look at me, please. You come down off this ledge here, and I will write your whole life story. OK, I will put it all down for you.

FORMAN: Really?

LEWIS: I promise. I'm not gonna miss a word.

FORMAN: What kind of pen would you use?

LEWIS: (takes out his gold pen.) How about this one right here.

FORMAN: Oh, very nice.

LEWIS: Yeah. OK, now we're gonna get down. OK, Mr. Forman?

FORMAN: OK… (Transfixed by the pen, he moves away from the edge. LEWIS grabs him and pulls him off the ledge.)

LEWIS: Here ya go, here ya go. (crowd on the street cheers.)

––––––

(The Box. JEREMY is signing the waiver sheet. BAYLISS is seated opposite him.)

BAYLISS: You understand your rights?

JEREMY: No sweat. (PEMBLETON takes the waiver sheet and puts it on the smaller table.)

PEMBLETON: Jeremy, where were you last night?

JEREMY: Last night? With my girlfriend, Molly.

BAYLISS: Last night, Molly was working. Where were you, Jeremy?

JEREMY: I don't remember.

PEMBLETON: (sits down next to BAYLISS) Jeremy, where is your birthday present?

JEREMY: What present?

PEMBLETON: The black, leather motorcycle jacket.

JEREMY: It's in the closet at Molly's house.

PEMBLETON: Where's the belt to that jacket?

JEREMY: You want to know about the belt?

PEMBLETON: Hm-mm.

JEREMY: I lost it. I don't know where, I think somebody must've stolen it. (Tim gets up and walks around the table.)

PEMBLETON: Someone stole your belt. And left the jacket?

JEREMY: That's what I think happened.

BAYLISS: (leans in next to JEREMY) You lost your leather belt…around the neck of Angela Frandina.

JEREMY: What? No, c'mon.

BAYLISS: Yeah, you put it around her neck, and you strangled her with it.

JEREMY: No…

BAYLISS: Yeah. You did.

JEREMY: No…

BAYLISS: You were there, Jeremy. You were there.

JEREMY: I was there, but it wasn't murder. (BAYLISS sits on the edge of the table.) She told me to put the belt around her neck. I don't know, it started something like that.

BAYLISS: You were…doing what she asked you to do, right?

JEREMY: Yeah.

BAYLISS: Hm-mm.

JEREMY: I went to see Molly. I forgot she was working. Angela's 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, real sexy. She grabs me, kisses me. So we start kissing, messing around. Then she told me to slap her.

BAYLISS: She…she asked you to hit her?

JEREMY: Yeah. I told her I didn't hit women, I couldn't. Then she takes the belt from my motorcycle jacket and starts doing a strip show for me. She's taking off her clothes while she's dancing, and doing stuff to herself with the belt.

BAYLISS: Get to the point.

JEREMY: We started going at it. She's telling me, 'Put the belt around my neck.' And then, 'Pull the belt tighter.' So then we start really going at it, and she's moaning and telling me, 'Pull the belt tighter, tighter…'

BAYLISS: (walks back to his chair) All right…

JEREMY: …I'd never done sex this way before. I lost control. She was different...

BAYLISS: …Ok, ok…

JEREMY: …It's like I got swept up in it, like it wasn't me. Like–

BAYLISS: (leaps back up so he's towering over JEREMY) I SAID ENOUGH, ALL RIGHT! OK? (sits back down next to PEMBLETON, who hasn't moved) You're under arrest for the murder of Angela Frandina.

JEREMY: She made me do it!

BAYLISS: Made you, huh? Made you, how?

JEREMY: (triple take) Angela was tough, you know? She was tough, you know? To be honest, we never really liked each other.

––––––

(Fort McHenry, at night. BOLANDER, LINDA and MUNCH are walking. BOLANDER stops as they pass a men's room.)

BOLANDER: Go ahead. I won't be long. (BOLANDER goes in. MUNCH and LINDA continue walking.)

MUNCH: Take your time. Not that at your age you have much choice.

LINDA: (laughs) You're a funny guy.

MUNCH: I'm funny to you?

LINDA: Yeah.

MUNCH: Did you hear anything I said tonight at all?

LINDA. I heard every word. But feeling sympathy for you or giving you comfort would be like cuddling a pit bull. You wouldn't know how to act. Leaving you speechless is probably the cruelest thing anyone could ever do you, am I right? (MUNCH sort of shrugs) That's what Felicia did.

MUNCH: (looks around) Fort McHenry. Used to come here on field trips when I was a kid.

LINDA: Yeah?

MUNCH: 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?

LINDA: Did you know that in World War I, this was used as an Army hospital? Tens and thousands of young men with wounds fresh from Chateau-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 right leg were blown off.

MUNCH: Ouch.

LINDA: He came here despairing 'cause 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.

MUNCH: Really? Great, who cares?

LINDA: Well, I do for one. They were my great-grandparents. Love is a surprise. The end of love usually isn't, but falling love is always a surprise.

MUNCH: Linda–it is Linda, isn't it?

LINDA: (laughs) Yes.

MUNCH: You're a very nice person

LINDA: Well thank you.

MUNCH: And obviously you're are capable of the impossible by making Stanley happy. But your homespun homilies, they don't play with me. I'm a Homicide cop. Nothing surprises me anymore.

LINDA: Nothing?

MUNCH: Absolutely nothing.

(A fireworks display begins overhead. They both look up.)

MUNCH: What the hell was that?

LINDA: I don't know. Your heart, maybe…

BOLANDER: (rejoins them, also looking up.) Look at that.

MUNCH: Yeah, look at that. (looks back at them) Y'know, Stanley, this woman, I gotta respect her. Why she goes out with you I'll never know. But as far as I'm concerned, your good fortune hangs right up there with the great mysteries of life. Right alongside the whereabouts of the lost tribes of Israel, and the true meaning to the lyrics of "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds." (looks back up at the flag and fireworks, then back at LINDA and BOLANDER.) I think I'll go look for a couple of the lost tribes right now. (MUNCH walks away, leaving LINDA and BOLANDER looking at the fireworks.)

––––––

(Squadroom. LEWIS and GIARDELLO are walking.)

LEWIS: The guy was obsessed with pens.

GIARDELLO: Uh-huh…

LEWIS: Obsessed enough to kill somebody over one.

GIARDELLO: Is that any worse than killing someone over a car, or over a woman?

LEWIS: But you could love a car, Gee. You could love a woman.

GIARDELLO: Why can't someone love a pen? (Smiles and returns to his office.)

FELTON: (At his desk, banging a pen against it.) Come on. Piece of crap.

LEWIS: (Passes FELTON'S desk) What's up, Beau?

FELTON: Brand new and it doesn't write. (Throws pen in the garbage.) You got another one?

LEWIS: (Stares at the gold pen on his desk.) Yeah, I got one. (He hands the pen to FELTON.)

FELTON: That's a beauty.

LEWIS: You like that pen, Beau?

FELTON: I love this pen.

LEWIS: Keep it.

(LEWIS walks away. He passes BAYLISS, who seems to be sleepwalking as he goes to the Board. He erases 253 ANGELA FRANDINA and rewrites it in black.)

(Later. BAYLISS is at his desk, playing with his handcuffs. The Frandina crime scene photos are spread out on the desk, as well as a framed photo of Adena Watson. TANYA walks up to him, holding a large white box.)

TANYA: Hi.

BAYLISS: (Turns over the photos and stands up.) Hi.

TANYA: I hear you got the guy who killed Angela.

BAYLISS: Yeah. How did you know that?

TANYA: In our little community, word travels fast.

BAYLISS: Ah…

TANYA: (Holds out the box.) Here, a present.

BAYLISS: Uh, no…I can't –

TANYA: 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.

BAYLISS: I don't know how can you say that? If you know that you could be killed then why do you keep doing it?

TANYA: Believe it or not, when I've given myself over completely to the control of someone else, I'm free.

BAYLISS: Free?

TANYA: Yeah. Here. (She opens box and pulls out a black leather jacket.) Come on, try it on.

BAYLISS: No.

TANYA: Yes.

BAYLISS: (forceful) No.

TANYA: (more forceful) Yes.

BAYLISS: (quiet) Ok. (He turns around so she can slip the jacket on him. She turns him back around to face her. She straightens the jacket and looks him over.) Hmm…

TANYA: It's you.

BAYLISS: Hmm…

TANYA: See ya. (TANYA leaves. BAYLISS looks around, as if to see if anyone is watching.

Then he sits down, looking over the jacket.)

––––––

"Bad Girls"

(Night on the Block: lights, hustlers, strip clubs, prostitutes. BAYLISS is out walking, wearing the leather jacket and a dark shirt underneath. At one point he's propositioned by a prostitute. She whispers something in his ear, but he walks away. Mostly, he's looking around, more curious than anything else.)

More scripts.