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Hollywood Homicide 2003 CD1

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{y:i}Shooters, come forward|{y:i}to the 20-yard line.
Thanks, Joe.
Oh, shit.
Yo, K-Ro,|where you going, man?
- K-Ro, what's up?|- Hey, baby.
Somebody just shot my club up.|That's what I say, shot my club up.
What you need to know my name?|Get the police.
What do you mean you ain't coming?
I give you first shot|at making me an offer...
...on this four-bedroom|Mt. Olympus...
...and you leave me|sitting here two hours...
...and now you're telling me|you ain't... Hello?
Yeah, give me 10 minutes.|Be right there.
Yeah, it's Calden.
Oh, shit.
I'll be there in seven minutes. Yeah.
- Hi, Joe. How you doing?|- Okay, how are you?
Find anybody to buy|that house yet?
No. Showed it a couple of times|last week. There's some interest.
- I hear we got a messy one here.|- Yeah.
Joe, K.C.
- Hey, Leon.|- Hey.
I'm making you two|primaries in this disaster.
Since you've made no progress in the|Klepto murder, I figure you're due.
- Thanks for the confidence.|- No problem.
- Do you have a body count?|- Can we get a statement?
- What do we got, Leon?|- One on the floor, three backstage.
Rap group, calls itself H2OKlick.|Don't ask me why.
- Joint was full?|- Yeah.
- Nobody saw it.|- Of course not.
- Are these things on?|- They were. They're off now.
Listen, get them out of here.|Now, come on.
Let's go.
Well, what do you think?
Write this down.
Cheeseburger, well-done.
Raw onion, pickle, ketchup.|Nothing else.
Got it.
Time to get rolling on some chow.|This is what the big dog wants.
And I want tomato and cucumber|on whole wheat...
...with only mustard|and bean sprouts.
Hey, Lou, nobody|goes in here, okay?
Got you.
It looks like one shooter came|from down there.
The other came from down there.
This poor son of a bitch|got it from both sides.
- Yeah.|- How long you had this place?
Man, I only had this place two years.|This is messed up.
- Where you living?|- At the Bel Age.
- Bel Age?|- Right up the road...
...but it's just temporary.
- Where were you when it occurred?|- In my office. Right there.
- These guys were about to break out.|- The boys was blowing up.
Sartain Records.|Antoine Sartain, that's the big man.
- These guys have any trouble?|- Some sort of turf war?
I know nothing about no|East Coast-West Coast...
...hip-hop, gangbanging bullshit.
I'm just a poor country boy|trying to get by.
- Getting by pretty well, I'd say.|- I do okay.
Hello? Hold on. Hello?
Hello? Hold on just a second, let me...
Hey, Stan.
Stan, that four-bedroom|Mt. Olympus fell through.
Can you make me an offer?
Eddie, you got those shoe prints?
Two prints.|Matching pattern, different sizes.
That's a 9. That's an 11.
Hey, you, come here.|I see mayonnaise.
Did anybody in this room|hear me say the word mayonnaise?
Read your notes.|What does it say?
Cheeseburger, well-done,|ketchup, pickle.
You call that well-done?
In addition to the mayonnaise...
...I see lettuce that somebody|tried to scrape off here.
This is a disaster.
What do they teach you|at the Academy?
You want to be a detective?
- Yes, sir.|- Don't call me sir. I work for a living.
Dump this for me, please.|I expect better.
- Joe, kid's got something.|- Gavilan.
No, 675 won't fly.
If you're gonna get back to me,|have at least 7 and change.
Diamond earring.
Could be something,|could be nothing. Good work, kid.
Did you get the piss and|the shoe prints in the closet?
Yeah, I got it, Joe.
I'm gonna go hammer|on the owner a little more.
How come you got no video|surveillance, big-ass place like this?
How come you got no video|surveillance, big-ass place like this?
- What kind of security you got?|- I ain't never had no problems.
You got a problem now.|Two guys sneak in with guns.
- Who does your security anyway?|- A bunch of off-duty L.A.P.D. Cops.
That's your first mistake.
Man, why you ragging on me?|All I'm trying to do is just business.
Julius, you're making me curious.|How come you live in a hotel?
I just sold my crib.|The new one fell through.
So I'm sort of, like,|looking right now.
You're sort of looking|for a new house?
That's what I said.
Julius, look... my other career|I'm a real-estate broker.
Real-estate broker?|You got two jobs?
We work a lot of overtime,|we get time off.
A lot of guys have three jobs.
- What you saying?|- What I'm saying... I got a beautiful 3400-square-foot|house on Mt. Olympus.
New roof, partial view.|Owner's desperate.
Man, I don't want no crap|on no Mt. Olympics.
Well, what you looking for?
I'm looking for a big house,|something with class.
How much will you pay|for something with class?
Not a penny more than 6.
- Six?|- That's what I said, 6.
I was not soliciting.|I was doing research.
Research is not soliciting.
I've never had to pay for sex.|I have four BAFTA nominations.
Evening, Gloria.|Do you know who I am?
- Here's our dead guys.|- Thanks.
The puddle of piss makes me think|we got a witness.
- Just sit down there and shut up.|- You shut up.
I can't work here.|This place is a zoo.
Let's get out of here|before Boardner's closes.
The doctor's in. Help's on its way.
Thanks, Hank.
- Something wrong, Joe?|- What do you mean, "wrong"?
You seem down.
Down? Me?
Lately. Yeah.
We've been partners for four months.|Now you want to be my shrink?
Sometimes it helps to talk.|That's all I'm saying.
All right.
Let me paint you a picture.
Portrait of Joe Gavilan.
Seven, eight years ago,|I sold the results...
...of my entrepreneurial efforts|up to that point.
Three tanning salons...
...and two original silk-tip|nail parlors in the Antelope Valley.
And I started attending...
...weekend real-estate seminars|at the airport Hyatt.
You know, how to make|a million dollars... real estate|with very little money down.
Sounds good.
Started with a condo|in Sherman Oaks.
Slapped paint on the walls.|Refaced the kitchen cabinets.
Traded up to a smoke-damaged|ranch in Tarzana.
Then a Spanish on Outpost...
...and a fake Mediterranean|in Los Feliz.
Pretty soon I had everything|I've got tied up in this...
...this monstrosity on Mt. Olympus... the corner of Hercules|and, I shit you not, Achilles.
- What's the problem?|- The problem is...
...if I don't score a big commission|or get rid of this...
...piece of shit on Mt. Olympus...
Well, the word Titanic|comes to mind.
Joe, I know a girl who works|for some rich producer.
Says he might sell his place.|Maybe you can get the listing.
- Got a name?|- Her name's like Minnie or Moma.
Something like that,|I don't remember.
Not the girl, hot rocks,|the producer.
Oh, I don't know the producer.|Way before my time.
- Hey, Joe, you ready for something?|- Shoot.
I don't think I want|to be a cop anymore.
Come on, you need some fresh air.
- Put this on my tab, Hank.|- What tab?
Hey, I got it. I got it. It's okay.
If you don't want to be a cop,|what do you want to be?
I want to be an actor.
- You wanna be what?|- An actor.
- You're gay. I can deal with that.|- You know I'm not gay.
Why do you want to do|something stupid like acting?
Because it's my bliss.
And I have to follow my bliss.
Turning into Oprah around here.
I rented a theater|on Highland, Friday night.
I invited some agents and producers.|It's called a showcase.
- What are you showcasing?|- My talents.
Mr. Robert De Niro here.
Hey, detective, you're gonna say|it's none of my business...
...but when's the last time|you got laid?
None of your business.
Say it ain't so, Joe.
Oh, my God.
Jesus Christ.
- How's business, Jack?|- Wanda.
- Wanda.|- Some trick's thumping on prostitutes.
We put our best female officer|undercover and she got hurt, so...
...l'm the bait.
Well, you look good.
Well, it never hurts|to get a compliment...
...but that's not why|I was shaking my booty at you.
You're working that bloodbath|over at the Freeway Club.
The word's out|about the shooting.
Word is one guy slid out|without a scratch.
- Got a name or anything?|- K-Ro, K-Mart or something like that.
He was the group's|main songwriter.
- Somebody writes that shit?|- Yeah, tell me about it.
Want me to drop you|back where I got you?
Yeah, I got backup to pick me up.
Just swing me|back around to Cherokee.
These heels are killing me.|Just killing me, man.
This is Ruby the psychic,|Ruby the night owl...
...waiting for your calls,|your problems, your concerns.
Want to unravel the past?|Ruby can help.
Want to sort out the present?|Ruby can help.
Want to look into the future?|Ruby can do that too.
Just pick up the phone.|Smokey, where have you been?
{y:i}Busy guy, Ruby.
- Got something to share?|- Tell me about the future.
I see some financial concerns.|Is that right?
Wait a minute. I'm seeing something|dangerous, maybe painful?
What else is new?
Whatever else is new|will have to wait.
{y:i}We're out of time.|{y:i}Why do you call so late?
Night owls, this is Ruby.
Mr. Sartain and I'd like to thank you.
I'm Mr. Sartain's colleague,|Leroy Wasley.
- Tell Mr. Sartain the deed's done.|- Now where's our money?
Here you go.
Oh, shit.
Tell me something, man. You think|Gavilan can figure this thing out?
Bennie Macko's not gonna let him.|He'll take him down.
Why would Bennie Macko|believe all this bullshit?
I've known Bennie a long time.
He graduated in the class|behind mine at the academy.
We were rookies together|in the same division.
He's a politically ambitious suit.
- He listens to what I tell him.|- Patience is not one of my virtues.
Let me explain something.
You can kill a street|punk like Klepto. It's no big deal.
These two bangers,|they didn't mean anything to anybody.
But you send them into an open|nightclub, and they cap four guys?
That's another mess altogether.
The last time I checked, I pay you|to run my security, not your mouth.
Let go of me,|you sons of bitches!
Not a knickknack, knit-lock,|knock-kneed knickerbocker sock... a hodgepodge, moss-blotched,|botched Scotch block.
I got more time in the third-floor|crapper than you do on the job.
I got more time in the third-floor|crapper than you do on the job.
You can't open my locker without|a warrant. I know my rights.
Well, I appreciate a man who knows|his rights. There you go.
- What's going on here, cap?|- This is Bennie Macko, Internal Affairs.
- You got a right to an attorney.|- This is an authorized investigation...
...within the jurisdiction|of Los Angeles.
- Oh, please. I'll open it.|- Go ahead.
- I haven't been in there in 10 years.|- You open it.
Oh, here are those shoes.|I thought I lost these.
- I love these shoes.|- Ever clean your locker?
Between finding, apprehending|and convicting murderers...
...and cleaning, I made|a decision to do the former.
- You got a lot of lip.|- A lot of lip.
- Yeah, you do.|- I got a big nose too.
Calden, open your locker.
- Why him?|- He's your partner. Go ahead, open it.
No, don't open it.
- You got something to hide?|- Yeah, kind of.
You got to do it, son.
Commingling funds, huh?
That's my crime?
Commingling? Guilty.
My alimony, number one,|comes from money...
...commingled|with my beer money.
My refinanced car commingled with|the short-term loan to keep the...
...second mortgage paid, commingled|with my alimony number three...
...commingled with|every goddamn dime...
...l've got tied up|in my Mt. Olympus property.
My whole life's commingled.
I'm glad you brought up|Mt. Olympus.
You're attempting to sell|without disclosing you own it.
This isn't about real estate,|is it, Bennie?
What's going on here? As immediate|supervisor of these men... are bound to inform me|of any investigation.
- You're informed.|- You couldn't tell me?
I'm trying to find out|what I'm guilty of...
...besides going to one too many|airport real-estate seminars.
Well, for starters, you know|a woman named Cleo Ricard?
I talk to her. Talk's cheap.
Administrative Vice, which has|been watching her for two years... making a major prostitution bust...
...and you're making promises|to her to intervene.
You haven't registered her|as an informant.
- Joe, is this true?|- By itself, that's cause for suspension.
I mentioned her name to District|Attorney Gardner six weeks ago.
- Told him I was gonna make a contact.|- He denies it.
He's a liar! I haven't registered|her as an informant...
...because she hasn't informed.
I don't want to get|buried under paperwork...
...just so Vice can tell me|to back off their suspect.
It's a big case for them.
- Bigger than a quadruple murder?|- This is not your decision.
As no charges have been made,|release Gavilan and Calden... they can resume investigations.
- Bennie?|- Yeah, we'll talk about it.
- When he's out of the room.|- Fuck you very much.
- What is with that Macko guy?|- Oh, he's a jerk.
Years ago, he was lead detective|on those jockey love-nest murders.
You remember, big girls, little guys?
He bragged to the papers.|I proved he had the wrong guy.
Embarrassed the shit out of him.|He's been wanting to get me since.
Now he's assigned to IA,|and he's taking his shot.
- You can't trust cops.|- Your dad was a cop.
He was killed in the line of duty|under bullshit circumstances.
No one was held responsible,|and his case was closed.
The feds investigate?
The word is they thought|his partner was dirty...
...but the report's sealed tight.
I got a pal down there|who owes me a favor.
You wanna see the report,|I'll make a call.
I'd appreciate it. Yeah.
Hey, Joe, listen, what I said last night|about you getting laid...'s none of my business,|you know?
It's no big deal.
Just be safe.
- Safe?|- Yeah.
That hooker last night.
That was a guy.
I don't need to know that.
That was a cop.|That was a guy cop.
A cop guy.
- Gavilan.|- "Hello, Joe?"
Cleo, I was just talking about you.
Cleo, I was just talking about you.
I hope it was something good.
Listen, Joe, I have a little problem.|Vice is breathing down my neck.
Yeah, well, IA's|breathing down mine.
Let's go.
Come on, big boy.
- Well, I might have something for you.|- I'm listening.
Is this the William Morris Agency?|Yeah. Hi, this is K.C. Calden.
I sent a headshot, résumé...
...and an invitation to a performance|of "Streetcar Named Desire."
Hold it while I get something|out of the trunk. Where you going?
It's on Friday.
One of the girls was a regular|for one of the guys shot last night.
{y:i}She was also a regular of Klepto's.
You talk to Vice and get them|to back off me...
- "... and I'll talk to her".|- Not the way it works.
Give me the girl first.
Joe, why don't I send you over|a couple of ladies?
Big mistake. Big, big mistake.
You can have a party on me.
We'll keep it out of the book.|What do you say?
Not my style, Cleo. Call me back|when you got something real.
Yeah, I'll be playing the Brando part.
Let's go.
I'll call you back.
- I'm gonna take him, Joe.|- No, no, no. The gun's still hot!
Stay down there. Stay down.|Stay down, man. Stay there.
Got a live gun here.|You'll get yourself shot.
What are you talking about?|It's a standard Beretta, 15 shots.
- I counted.|- And one in the spout.
- Oh, shit.|- Did you lose this?
- How do I look?|- You look all right.
Many thanks. Now the buttons.
I can't do nothing with them.
You men with your big,|clumsy fingers.
May I have a drag on your cig?
- Okay.|- Who writes this stuff?
Look, it's not stuff. It's art.
In fact, it's one of the|greatest plays ever.
And it's not the words you're|having trouble with.
It's the lack of conviction.|If you give it conviction...
...we can have a back-and-forth.
I know you're playing a girl,|but come on.
- What is this about?|- Just read.
It's your turn.
You look like you raided|some stylish shops in Paris.
No, wait a second,|you skipped a line.
As a matter of fact,|you skipped a bunch of lines.
Never mind, we're here.
K.C. Calden, Hollywood Homicide.|We're here to see Antoine Sartain.
He's in recording studio B, I think.
- Is he expecting you?|- Kind of.
Homicide, I want to talk|to Antoine Sartain.
You gentlemen|have an appointment?
You off-duty L.A.P.D.?
- You giving me a hard time?|- It's called a homicide investigation.
- Well, you're not going in.|- My God, he has a badge and a gun.
Come on, get out|of the way, will you?
What? A cop's gonna|hit a cop now?
That's a good suggestion.
I'm filing police brutality charges.|Assault, harassment.
Let me help you out there.|Sergeant Willoughby. Gavilan.
How's Betty?|The kids? Okay, good.
Look, I got an off-duty cop who wants|to file a complaint against me.
Hold on a second.
There's been a misunderstanding.
Thanks a lot.
Finally, this is the take.|This is the one.
This is it, Butch.|This is the one.
Come on in. That's the best take.
We need some bells,|because this ain't happening.
- Bells?|- Everybody's using bells, man.
- We need some radio.|- Guys, excuse me.
- My opinion is gold.|- Antoine Sartain?
- What did I say to you?|- Hold up.
- Antoine Sartain?|- Please, hold up.
- L.A.P.D. Homicide.|- What's this supposed to be?
- Who are you, coming in here?|- I'm looking for Antoine Sartain.
Turn the music down.|Turn the music down.
Chill on the real. On the real, chill.|Because you know what?
What you want, man?|You Hollywood dicks are all the same.
You all saw that, right?|That's police brutality.
- Don't think I won't report you.|- Help me out here.
Do you know this guy?|Help me out.
Do you know this guy?
Because I don't recognize him.|These the same guys?
These your friends?
- Yeah, we know these guys.|- That's my boy, man.
Do you know where|I can find Mr. Sartain?
He just left. He's on the 10th floor.
- Elevator's over there.|- Thank you very much.
K.C. Calden?
- Silk Brown, baby. Crenshaw High.|- Oh, yeah. How you doing, brother?
I'm all right. Told you I knew this dude.
I'll stick around here and see|if I can find out anything.
Look at him!|Didn't know you were a cop, man.
Actually, I'm thinking about|getting out of this L.A.P.D. Shit.
- What you working, man?|- I did some acting in high school.
- Thinking about the movie thing.|- I knew we came for a reason.
- Baby, talk to him. Go ahead.|- Well, I did a Jell-O commercial once.
- That's right. The blue Jell-O girl.|- That was me. J-E-L-L-O.
- You did a great job. Congratulations.|- Thank you.
- She sold a shitload of Jell-O too.|- I believe that.
This is nice.
Trying to imagine what it was like|when this was all still glamorous.
It's been a long time since anything|happened at Hollywood and Vine.
- Can I offer you something? Anything?|- No, I just want to ask a few questions.
Oh, sure. Sure.
- Have a seat, please.|- Thanks.
So how long ago did you sign...
...H2OKlick?|- Five years ago.
I don't really know this music.
- Were they good?|- Most people don't know this.
But I lose money on 19|out of 20 new groups.
But one breakout...|One breakout pays for everything.
Were these guys gonna break out?
They had a chance, yeah.
You know these fellas personally?
I can't afford to get|too close to my acts.
Because, sooner or later,|I'm gonna have to be the guy...
...that doesn't renew their contracts.|- Brutal business.
Brutal business. Brutal.
So I don't have an agent right now,|but I can do accents.
I do English, I do Jamaican|and even Texas.
- And I even play the piano and tennis.|- Yeah, she real good, dude.
Silk got this script|that's off the hook, man.
I got the script with Oscar|shit written all over it.
- I'll tell you what it's called.|- Tell him.
Tell him the title. You will love|this title. Tell him the title.
- Let me hear it.|- You ready for this?
- It's called...|- Listen to this.
- Tell me that ain't hot!|- That's a good title.
I'm into titties and shit blowing up.
- But nothing exploitive.|- No, none of that.
- Gotta respect the female.|- Always.
Maybe I can help you out with this,|but you guys can help me out too.
Give me a call if you hear anything|about this H2OKlick thing, all right?
We ain't no snitches or nothing|like that, you know. Come on, now.
- No, I don't wanna ask you to do that.|- No.
You hold on to that just in case|something comes up. You never know.
How much time you spend|in the joint, Antoine?
Much too long for my taste.
My accountant let me down.
Something about|commingling of funds.
Yeah, it could happen to anybody.
Must take a lot of money to get|one of these groups up and running.
How much did you have|invested in Klepto?
Now, that was a bad investment.
He left my label. Why you asking?
I'm just fascinated|by the music business.
One last thing. Young fellow goes|by the name of K-Ro.
Did some songs for H2O.
Know his real name|or where I can find him?
- I'd like to ask him a few questions.|- K-Ro.
No, I don't... I don't even know|the guy's real name.
I mean, most of these kids|have some badass names.
They all think they're thugs.
For most, it's just an act.|Bunch of mama's boys.
First they're down with a brother,|then they're ungrateful asses.
Half of them would be dead|or in prison if it wasn't for me.
You know what I'm saying, detective?|It's just a game. Nothing but a game.
Well, we got four mama's boys|laying on slabs at the morgue.
It wasn't a game last night.
I'll let you go. Thanks for your help.|If you think of anything more... let me know, okay?|- Sure.
What, are you trying to sell me|some real estate?
- What do you got?|- I know Sartain's lying to me.
- How do you know that?|- His lips are moving.
- What do you got there?|- It's a script from the guys in there.
They say they'll call if they|come across anything.
They say they don't know about|last night. They're lying too.
You get the name of that|producer selling his house?
- I'll get it now. Just a second.|- All right.
Mona, right. Sorry.
Do you know the name of that|producer selling his place up on...?
Thank you. Yeah, sorry. Bye.
- Jerry Duran?|- Jerry Duran. Used to be huge.
- Joe, somebody's stealing your car!|- It's insured, so it's okay.
No, it's not okay!
Hey! Get out of the way!|Get out of the way!
Stop! Police!
All right!
Get out of the car!|Get your hands up!
Stop! Get down! Get down!
Get down on the ground!|Get down!
Put your hands where I can see them.|Get them behind your back.
Don't cuff us.|We weren't stealing your car.
- We're repo guys.|- You kidding me?
Nice shot, slick.
Now we gotta spend the afternoon|booking car thieves...
...filling out paperwork.
- They weren't stealing it.|- What do you call it?
Apparently, you're behind|on your payments.
You assholes, get out of here!|Get out of here! Goddamn it! Get out!
Shit! That was a good tire!
Hey, Roy. Joe Gavilan just left.
He was in here looking for K-Ro.
{y:i}He must've been|{y:i}the other guy backstage.
'Toine, listen to me.
- It's taken care of.|- No, no, it's not taken care of.
If it was, Gavilan wouldn't|be here in my face.
After tonight, K-Ro's just a memory.
Not after tonight. Take care of it now.
- By the time homicide finds him...|- Get it taken care of. Now!
- Kimberly, hey!|- Shawna!
You dog, you.
- Yes?|- L.A.P.D. Mr. Duran, please.
One moment, please.
You just shut up and let me|do the talking, all right?
- Gentlemen.|- Mr. Duran. Hollywood Homicide.
Detective Joe Gavilan.|My partner, K.C. Calden.
- There must be some mistake.|- I think I've got a buyer for your house.
- I won't go a penny under 5.7.|- I was thinking 6.
- So that's, what, five bedrooms?|- Six bedrooms upstairs, six baths.
Guesthouse has two baths,|two bedrooms.
And in the servants' quarters,|two bedrooms, two baths.
Now, this room's a beaut. You got|a whole view of Benedict Canyon. It's...
Hey, don't you have something|to do in the kitchen?
There's a lost wax fountain|at the bottom of this.
It's a piece of work.|You should see that.
And this is a living room.
Mr. Duran, are you still|making music and movies?
When I can, kid.
...what are you doing on Friday night?|- Friday night's a long time away, kid.
- Beautiful house, Mr. Duran.|- Thank you.
I've got a desperate buyer.
Give me a three-day exclusive listing.
- Lf I don't sell it in that time, deal's off.|- I'll give you 48 hours.
The great and the near-great.
I used to be huge.
- I could be huge again.|- You're still huge to me, Mr. Duran.
You got 72 hours to sell my house.
- Thank you.|- Let me show you the door.
Joe Gavilan. Look, I found you|your big house with class.
But you got to get over here|right away.
- There's a lot of interest.|- "What's up?"
I got $6 million. You been talking.|Show me the house.
3500 Shadow Hills Way, Beverly Hills.
How soon...? Within an hour?|Okay, great.
Gavilan. Yeah, Leon.
{y:i}Mando's got something for you.|{y:i}Hold on.
Joe, the kid who split the club.
{y:i}K- Ro, born Oliver Robidoux, 5/78.|{y:i}Went to Leuzinger High... Compton, graduated '95.
- "Address unknown."|- Oliver Robidoux.
- I hope they do haul you in...|- Leon, that name ring a bell with you?
- Robidoux, Robidoux. Sounds familiar.|- Yeah, a Motown singer.
Olivia Robidoux used to sing backup|for Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell.
- Stella!|- Put Lopez back on.
Run Olivia Robidoux, will you?|Music unions, ASCAP, anything.
- Get back to me, okay?|- I hope they do haul you in...
- K-Ro.|...and turn the fire hose on you.
- You whelp of a Polack, you.|- Hey. K-Ro is one Oliver Robidoux.
I think his mom was this backup|singer for Motown, Olivia Robidoux.
- We're finally getting somewhere.|- Let's go.
Hey, look, I gotta show the house.
- Now?|- How about you cover the autopsies?
- I don't like dead bodies.|- Come on, I'll owe you one.
- You coming to my play Friday night?|- Yeah, I'm coming to your play. Sure.
Well, there's still some seats open.
All right, I'll bring some people, okay?
All right, you got a deal.
- Shawna, can I get a lift?|- Of course.
Cool. See you, Joe.
Let me take that for you.|Thanks.
It's good to see you again.
- Jesus!|- Sorry about that.
There's some towels over there, K.C.|We got a juicy one here.
- K.C. Calden, Hollywood Homicide.|- Willie Palmero, South Bureau.
Body drop in Vernon.
Couple of crispy critters here.
I think it was a professional hit,|a straight-up execution.
- And this earring?|- Off one of the guys.
I bet they were wearing work boots,|weren't they? Sizes 9 and 11?
- How'd you know?|- Jesus Christ.
Willie, I think these guys|shot those guys.
Beautiful home. Cool crib.
This is me.
The great, near-great|used to hang out here.
For sure?
- He wants 7.|- Man, tell him kiss my ass.
No, now wait.|Here's the deal.
You offer 5.5. He counters with 6.5.
You come back at 6.|Give him 48 hours. He'll take it.
- He's desperate.|- For sure?
For sure. Excuse me.
- Gavilan.|- "Joe, yeah."
{y:i}I got two bodies here in the chop|{y:i}shop that could be the triggermen.
- What do you got?|- I got the earring...
...and the boots. I booked them|into evidence.
- Man, what's up?|- Police business.
- You seen the library?|- I don't need no library. I need a pool.
Turf-warfare guys do|their own dirty work.
I think these guys were capped|to cover somebody else's tracks.
- You like tennis?|- Too much running.
I absolutely agree with you.|No, not...
Look, good job, kid.|I'll talk to you later.
Yeah, okay.
So, Julius...
...what do you think?|- Okay. I'll go 5.5.
All right. My man.
Bring the left foot back.
Root it there and come up|into warrior one.
Let your arms just raise up.
Spread your arms to the sides. Exhale.|Come back down into warrior two.
Exhale. Bring your right arm down|to your knee and then sweep across.
Extreme right-angle pose.
Sweep the arms up,|move your feet to parallel.
Pull your arms back around|behind you.
And then just feel yourself open.
Very good.
Continue that on the other side.|I'll be right back.
- What are you doing here?|- I've got something for you.
- How'd you find me?|- I'm psychic.
- Really?|- No, not really.
I'm a detective, for chrissake.
I didn't know you taught this.
- You make some dough?|- Yeah, I make 20 bucks a head.
- You know, donation.|- Donation? Unreportable?
Twenty times 40...|Eight hundred bucks a whack?
Class, all right, when you're done|with this pose, we're done for the day.
Get back here.
Some racket you got here.|Money and sex.
This is not a racket. These are real|people with real feelings.
They need me. I'm their teacher.|And I need them too.
It's called a symbiotic relationship.|You wouldn't know about that.
Have a good day. Nice practice.
Excuse me, K.C.,|do you give private lessons?
I don't. If you talk to Kimberly,|then we'll set something up.
Okay, thank you.
K.C., thank you. I feel really...
That's a good thing, okay?
See you later.
Great class.
Thanks, Shawna.
Maybe I got into it for the sex.
But it's not about that anymore.|I mean, this spiritual shit...
...there's really something to it.
I mean,|I'm out of my body sometimes, man.
I mean, this stuff really works.
And then these girls come in.|And, I mean, they're everywhere.
It's spiritual.
- Deep.|- And shallow.
Deep and shallow.
This is why I came.|It's the report on your dad's shooting.
Gower and Franklin.
Thanks for understanding, Joe.
What's up, Cleo?
- Have you talked to Vice?|- No, I haven't.
Not gonna talk to Vice|till I talk to your girl.
- You'll have to give me a name.|- My girl is ready to talk.
I've heard that before.
She says she was working|a Sartain Records party.
Overheard some guy smoking crack|start bragging.
About what?
The people behind the Klepto murder|were also behind the H2OKlick hit.
That's hearsay.
Hearsay to you,|pillow talk to the DA.
- You want a deal?|- I don't know.
Give me a call tomorrow,|I'll run it by the DA.
- This girl better be for real.|- Look, I gotta make this work.
Things are getting ugly.
I hear you.
{y:i}What we got on Gavilan so far?
First of all,|he's still seeing Cleo Ricard.
- In fact, he saw her earlier today.|- God, it's right in my face.
He's just completely defiant.
He's clearly continuing to work her|as an informant.
That's enough to relieve him|of duty right there.
I don't want him relieved of duty.|I want him to hang.
His financials don't add up.
He's paying off three ex-wives.|He's got two kids.
Two kids in a fancy college. He's got a|great big house and a big, stupid car.
I mean,|what about his real-estate thing?
He hasn't made a sale in ages.
My source tells me he's getting money|from somewhere to keep it afloat.
- So get me more surveillance.|- Okay.
- Dominique?|- Close enough.
- Where'd you get the key?|- Under the flowerpot.
How'd you know it was|under the flowerpot?
I'm psychic.
Good security for a cop.
Bad cop.
No doughnut.
- Everything okay?|- Oh, yeah.
Everything's fine.
Just a tough case, that's all.
Used to have a feel|for a case early on.
Thank you.
So you really...
...think you can|predict the future, huh?
How's that work?
Sometimes I see things.|It just comes to me.
And sometimes I flip a coin.
Other times...
...I just make shit up.
Happy anniversary.
What anniversary?
You and me.
Three weeks.
That is so sweet.
You remembered.
I didn't.
I mean, dates don't really matter,|except they do.
We think human time,|but rocks think geologic time.
Do you understand what I'm saying?
I don't.
The only date that matters is the day|I found you and left that jerk.
Does he know it's over?
Bennie's in denial.
He's hanging on like a mongoose.|It's sad, really.
Macko. You don't know him.|He's not in your division.
Bennie Macko?
- Bennie "The Executioner" Macko?|- That sounds like my Bennie.
He's the guy who's trying to bury me,|for chrissake!
- Does he know about us?|- Of course not.
And who cares?|It's over, we're finished.
Guys aren't like that, honey.|Guys keep score!
Yeah, Jerry...
Mr. Duran.
Yeah, I can do that.
Get the buyer and the seller|inches away from closing...
...and this guy wants...
That could be great, honey. Mercury's|not in retrograde for another week.
It's good time for deal-making.|It's perfect time.
What did you ever see in...
...Bennie Macko?
I guess I just have|a weakness for cops.
Lock up when you leave.
What have we here?
Oh, my!
Nice shoes.
- Good morning, Mr. Duran, Julius.|- Good morning. Have a seat.
This is my attorney, Marty Wheeler...
...who just happens to be Julius'|attorney as well. Small world.
A conflict of interest?
Not for me.
Okay, let's talk.
Julius was ready|to go to 6.3 or 6.4...
...and you drove the price down|to 6.
Wait a second. You wanted 5.8.|Six is a score.
- You never told me 5.8 would do it.|- I was negotiating.
For whom?
Look, you wanted 5.8.|I was about to get you 6.
- He was ready to go to 6.4.|- Maybe 6.5.
But you said the price was 7.|It never was.
Look, guys, calm down.|This is a good deal for both of you.
The deal's off. I want 7 million.
- Seven?|- Yeah.
I won't go a penny over 6.5.
Good day, gents.
{y:i}I was that close to closing the deal|{y:i}when Duran starts dicking around...
...and blows the whole thing.
Getting excited never|solved any problems.
How many girls are waiting in line for|the hot tub? That's a problem for you.
Joe, you don't respect me wanting|to be an actor, do you?
I just don't get it.
Don't you ever want to explore|all the possibilities of who you are?
I just want to pay the mortgage and|escape with my dick attached to me.
It's that one over there.|I'm a simple man. Go around behind.
- I'll give you a second.|- Okay.
Take the front.
Ms. Robidoux? Police!
Just want to ask you a few questions.
I always thought you could sing|better than Tammi Terrell.
She got the breaks. I didn't.|That's life.
Mind if I come in?
Jesus Christ.
Joe, he's around front!|Joe, he's coming around front!
I got him!
He didn't do anything!
Ms. Robidoux.
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