Frequency

DARYL: Oh, my God! What is that?! Why you showing me this shit!? JESUS! JESUS! Get those away from me!

JOHN: Nicky Moore. Patty Ryan. Mary Finelli. These names mean anything to you, asshole? Julia Sullivan! She mean anything? She means something to me!

JOHN: Sexual assault, Daryl. Five years. But you got lucky, right? You got away with something else. Something you figured nobody knows about.

DARYL: What I know is what I told you.

JOHN: Let me tell you what I know, Daryl. You went to Saint Xavier with Mary. You lived five blocks from her. You liked her. But she ain't interested. That must've hurt, huh?

DARYL: So what?

JOHN: So, what'd you do about it, Daryl?

DARYL: Nothing.

DARYL: That was over thirty years ago. I paid for that and then some.

JOHN: You go to Xavier High School, Daryl?

DARYL: Yeah.

JOHN: You remember Mary Finelli?

DARYL: What are you saying?

JOHN: You know what I'm saying.

DARYL: No, I don't.

JOHN: Well, I think you do.

SHEPARD: You got a collar in here for the Nightingale murders?

DESK SGT.: Yeah.

SHEPARD: I'm working with one of the victims outta Brooklyn North. You mind I take a shot at him?

DESK SGT.: That's Deleon and Hayes' collar.

SHEPARD: They around?

DESK SGT.: Just missed Deleon. Hayes is up in the squad.

SHEPARD: Where's the collar, in the cells?

DESK SGT.: No, I think he's up in interrogation.

SHEPARD: I'll go find Hayes.

FRANK: How do we get to the vault door?

SUPERVISOR: There's a manhole at Canal and Bowery.

FRANK: Why haven't they killed the juice?

SUPERVISOR: Switches are shorted out.

FRANK: You're shitting me!

SUPERVISOR: Wish I was. Oldest part of the system down there. We're on it, but it's gonna take awhile.

FRANK: We gotta go underground. Get those guys out, now.

SUPERVISOR: We tried. Bulkhead door's rusted shut. Won't budge.

GIBSON: You okay, man?

FRANK: Elvis has left the building.

GIBSON: Gotta be another way up, Frank.

FRANK: Then fuckin' find it. I'm going for the girl.

FRANK: It looks open on the other side.

GIBSON: Don't know what's behind it.

FRANK: One way to find out.

GIBSON: Frank. Hey, man. You alright?

FRANK: I'm alright, Gibby.

GIBSON: Frank. We gotta go back. Frank...

FRANK: Stay with me, Gib. We're gonna do this.

GIBSON: I should'a been a fucking mailman.

GIBSON: Oh, yeah. Damn. My watch is busted.

FRANK: Hey, Rookie. Be cool. Just stay with me. This is what we do.

GIBSON: I seem nervous, huh?

FRANK: Oh, man. Hope it ain't like this in Baltimore tomorrow.

GIBSON: Baltimore?

FRANK: The game, Graham. The Series?

FRANK: Hey, bud.

JULIA: Frank...

JULIA: Then you gotta hide it somewhere. Somewhere where nobody's gonna find it...for 29 years! Put it under the loose floorboard by the window!

FRANK: I gotcha, I gotcha Chief!

FRANK: Jules, I want you to say hello to somebody... I'm on with John - that guy I told you about.

JULIA: The future guy?

FRANK: Yeah, but, no kidding around, he's a good guy, a real good guy...

JULIA: I'll be upstairs...if you want to play.

FRANK: I'm serious.

JULIA: So am I.

FRANK: There's something I gotta take care of. Something I need to tell you about.

JULIA: Okay...

FRANK: I've been talking to this...guy...this cop...on the HAM...and, uh, he...

JULIA: Honey, what is it? Just tell me.

FRANK: I've been talking to Johnny...on the radio.

JULIA: I know. He loves that thing.

FRANK: No. Not our Johnny. I mean, it's Johnny...but not now...in the future.

JULIA: I'm off.

FRANK: Wish you weren't.

JULIA: Do you know how much I love you?

JULIA: Boy is he excited about the game tomorrow.

FRANK: He ain't the only one.

FRANK: I love you, Bud.

JULIA: I love you more.

JULIA: Where's Johnny?

FRANK: I tucked him in at Gordo's.

JULIA: You give him his drops?

FRANK: One in each ear. What would you do without me?

JULIA: Probably marry some rich doctor and never have to work...

JULIA: Frank...what's wrong?

FRANK: Nothing. I just wanted to see you.

JULIA: Frankie, Johnny wants to say goodnight.

FRANK: Sure.

JULIA: Butch called.

FRANK: Did he?

JULIA: He did.

FRANK: It was under control, Bud. Butchy's just getting tight in his old age.

JULIA: Nothing wrong with old age, Frank...long as you get there.

JULIA: How was your tour?

FRANK: The usual.

FRANK: What's the matter, Jules? Trouble workin' an eight hour shift, watching the kid and whipping up a little bolognese?

JULIA: You didn't marry Donna Reed.

FRANK: I'd go with you and Chinese take-out over her any time.

JULIA: Damn.

FRANK: You alright?

JULIA: I think I ruined the sauce...again.

FRANK: How about a little of the King?

JULIA: Well, why not a little of the King?

FRANK: Hey, bud.

JULIA: Hey, bud.

SATCH: You missed a hell of a game, Frank.

FRANK: Next time lets put some money on it.

SATCH: Get him home safe.

SATCH: Deleon.

FRANK: Satch, you gotta listen to me...

SATCH: Frank. We know. We know it's Shepard.

FRANK: No kidding. I'm on the corner of 65th and CPW. Come get me.

FRANK: What if I could prove it to you, Satch?

SATCH: How's that?

FRANK: What if I told you that in the bottom of the 6th we're gonna be down 3-0. And Cleon Jones is gonna get hit in the foot. It's gonna leave a scuff mark on the ball.

SATCH: Frank, please...

FRANK: The next batter, Clendenon, hits one outta the park.

SATCH: Frank, this is insane...

FRANK: In the bottom of the 7th, Weis is gonna hit a solo home run. Jones and Swoboda are gonna score in the 8th. The Mets are gonna win 5-3. Go watch the game, Satch.

SATCH: Go watch the game? Go watch the fucking game? Frank, they're gonna make you for Sissy Clark's murderer. It matches the Nightingale's profile. You understand what that means?

SATCH: Frank, this is not the time to be worried about covering up if you had a thing with this girl.

FRANK: He's not gonna stop, Satch. He's gonna keep on...

SATCH: Are you listening to me? You're in a world of shit. An eye witness has you outside the dead girl's apartment. We got your prints all over the place. Plus the fucking driver's license, Frank. You gotta give me something here. Something I can believe.

FRANK: I swear, Satch.

SATCH: Uh, huh... Uh, huh. And you got this from the guy you were talking to on the radio when I came in?

FRANK: As nuts as that sounds, yes.

SATCH: Uh, huh.

FRANK: Satch, would you listen to me here. Just you and me. Can I talk to you here, alone?

SATCH: 415 Greenwich St. #302. Under the body of a murdered woman.

FRANK: No. This isn't what you think.

SATCH: I wanna be wrong here. But we need to go to the precinct and talk about it.

FRANK: Okay, okay. I need to go say something to Julia and finish up with the guy on the radio.

SATCH: You can talk to Julia. Forget the radio.

FRANK: What do you mean?

SATCH: Do you know where I found this?

FRANK: What is going on here, Satch? What are those guys doing out there?

SATCH: I think you know, Frank.

FRANK: No, I don't.

SATCH: Let's go outside and talk. We need to do that.

FRANK: About what?

SATCH: Let's go. Do us both a favor.

FRANK: Satch, you gotta just give me...Satch is here John. You hear me? Satch is here.

SATCH: I'm sorry, Frank, but you need to come outside.

SATCH: Frank, we need to talk...

FRANK: John, hold on a second. I'm in the middle of something important here. You mind if...

FRANK: Okay, I'm on it. Hey.

SATCH: Hello, Frank.

SATCH: Lucky throw, fire boy.

FRANK: Luck, my ass.

FRANK: Yes! That's it! You got it, you got it! Way to go, Chief!

JOHNNY: I'm doing it! I'm doing it!

FRANK: You ready?

JOHNNY: Wait...

FRANK: I'm right here behind you...

JOHNNY: I'm scared.

FRANK: Don't be scared. This time I'm right behind you if you fall.

JOHNNY: Daddy, Daddy, I can't.

FRANK: No, but we can. We can do it together. Spirit and guts, Chief.

JOHNNY: Daddy, come up and sing the baseball.

FRANK: I'll be up soon, Little Chief.

FRANK: Okay, start pedaling.

JOHNNY: Daddy put the wheels back on. I'm gonna fall.

FRANK: Don't think about falling, just keep pedaling.

JOHNNY: Daddy, I'm scared.

FRANK: C'mon, Chief, show some guts.

FRANK: Looks like two weeks worth of allowance, Chief.

JOHNNY: I know. Sorry, Dad.

FRANK: Glad to hear that.

JOHN: Wait. Something's wrong. I don't...

FRANK: What's wrong?

JOHN: I don't remember. Why don't I remember?

JOHN: I'm here, Dad. I'm here.

FRANK: We did it, John. We stopped him.

FRANK: John, you there?

JOHN: Yeah, Dad. What the hell is going on?

FRANK: Satch is busting me for Sissy Clark's murder. John...

JOHN: Dad, what the hell is going on?

FRANK: Just a minute, John...okay? Don't go away.

FRANK: What are you doing here, Satch? You off today?

JOHN: Dad, you there?

FRANK: You're telling me this maniac is a cop? What the hell am I supposed to do with that one?

JOHN: Call the FBI. Use a pay phone. Don't give 'em your name, Dad. Just tell 'em that it was Shepard who killed Finelli and Clark and the others. That he's the Nightingale.

JOHN: It's gonna work, Dad. We're gonna stop him.

FRANK: Hang on.

FRANK: I got it.

JOHN: Right, now I need you to tape it up on the outside, where he touched it, so the prints keep.

FRANK: Huh?

JOHN: I need you to believe in me. To believe that we can do this.

FRANK: John, he's got my driver's license.

JOHN: What?

FRANK: He took my driver's license, John, he knows where we live.

JOHN: He took your wallet?

FRANK: No, he tossed the wallet, but he kept the license.

JOHN: He touched your wallet! Where's your wallet?

FRANK: In my pocket.

JOHN: We got him! Dad you got him!

FRANK: What?

JOHN: His prints. You've got his prints. I'll run them through criminal index. You gotta get me that wallet.

FRANK: How the hell am I gonna do that?

JOHN: Listen to me, very carefully, take your wallet out, just touch it on the corners.

FRANK: What...

JOHN: Please, Dad, just do it.

FRANK: Okay, okay...

FRANK: This is wrong...it's like we cheated...

JOHN: I know... But Dad, you can't go back. You didn't die in that fire. And no matter what you do, nothing is gonna change that. So all we can do is deal with this...and try to make it right.

FRANK: I don't think I can. I'm not a cop. I can't. I can't stop this guy.

JOHN: But we can, we can do it together. Spirit and guts, remember?

FRANK: Johnny, I know, but...

FRANK: He killed her John. He killed her and I didn't do a thing to stop it.

JOHN: It's not your fault, Dad.

FRANK: Yes it is...we did this. We changed everything. I've been having bad dreams, Johnny. Dreams where I die...in the fire. I was supposed to die in that warehouse.

JOHN: No.

FRANK: John, you still there?

JOHN: I'm right here, Dad.

FRANK: You all right?

JOHN: Yeah, I think so...

FRANK: Don't worry, Chief. I'm not gonna let anything happen to her...no matter what.

FRANK: John, say hello to my wife...Julia.

JOHN: H-hi.

FRANK: Hang on a sec, John.

JOHN: You there?

FRANK: What else, John. It must be different, huh? Are people living on the moon?

JOHN: Didn't happen, we got enough problems down here.

FRANK: What are we like in...1998?

JOHN: We're okay...we're good, Dad.

FRANK: Hey, what about the Amazin's? They pull it off?

JOHN: You really wanna know?

FRANK: Yeah, you betcha.

JOHN: Well, game five was the big one. It turned in the bottom of the 6th. We were down 3-0. Cleon Jones gets hit on the foot - left a scuff mark on the ball. Clendenon comes up. The count goes to 2 2. High fastball. He nailed it. Weis slammed a solo shot in the 7th to tie. Jones and Swoboda scored in the 8th. We won, Pop.

FRANK: Wow.

FRANK: Tell me something good, Chief. Tell me about the future.

JOHN: Well they found out cigarettes give you lung cancer.

FRANK: Got it.

JOHN: Dad, I think I may be able to get you enough information to make sure the DA can nail this bastard.

FRANK: How?

JOHN: Coupla days ago they dug up a body in Washington Heights - Mary Finelli. Girl disappeared in '68. Turns out she was his first kill. Which means he probably knew her. Most serials know their first victim. I'm gonna do some checking - see if I can put any of this together...

FRANK: All right, I'm with you. I just hope we know what the hell we're doing.

FRANK: I'll be damned.

JOHN: Did you see him? Do you know who he is?

FRANK: No. I just kept talking to her. There was a lot of guys in that bar - could'a been any of 'em.

JOHN: It's okay. This is working. This is gonna work.

FRANK: Whatta we do now?

JOHN: Sissy Clark, 190 Riverside Dr., apartment 3C. Tomorrow. She's a nursing student. Paying her way as a cocktail waitress at the Peppermint Lounge, on west 63rd. Left work at two A M...killed in her apartment, between two thirty and five.

FRANK: What do I tell them?

JOHN: Tell 'em there's a homicide in progress... cause by the time they show up there will be.

FRANK: Why not just get the cops to watch the bar?

JOHN: They'll question her. Whatever they tell her could change what happens. No, I want you to follow her. See if anybody's watching her, hittin' on her. I'm betting somebody's gonna walk outta that bar with her. When they do, you call the cops.

JOHN: You ever talk to a victim's family? The one's left behind? They don't act like what you'd think. There's panic and fear. But mostly, it's like there's this logic problem. And if they could only solve it, everything would be okay. But if you look real close - look at their eyes - you can see it. Just a glimmer. But somewhere they know. They know their world is never gonna be the same.

FRANK: What if the radio stops working? Christ, what if I can't reach you again?

JOHN: Then you get Mom the hell out. But Dad, those other women weren't supposed to die. We don't try to stop this guy, we're gonna live with that for the rest of our lives.

FRANK: Murdered? Why?

JOHN: There was this case. A serial. He murdered three women, all nurses, between '68 and '69. The papers called them the Nightingale Murders. They never caught him. But the killings just stopped.

FRANK: What kinda twisted animal.

JOHN: Dad, we did something. Something to make it worse.

FRANK: Whatta you mean...

JOHN: He didn't just kill three women anymore. He killed ten.

FRANK: What are you talking about?

JOHN: Something we did changed the case...changed history. Mom wasn't dead. But then after you didn't die in the fire something must have happened. And this guy, this Nightingale guy, he kept on killing...it was like a spree...seven more women.

FRANK: I gotta take her away, John. I'm gonna take your mother away. He can't hurt her if I take her away.

JOHN: I don't know... What about the other women?

FRANK: I'll warn them.

JOHN: That'll never work. They'll just think you're crazy.

FRANK: What can we do? You don't even know who this guy is.

JOHN: No. Nobody got... Wait a minute. I might not know who he is, but I know where he's gonna be. I got the case file. We know what he's gonna do before he does it.

FRANK: So what should I do? Call the police? You think they'll believe me?

JOHN: They will if they catch him in the act. You can make that happen, Dad. You can tail the victim and call it in at just the right moment.

FRANK: I don't know, John. I'm a fire fighter. This is...this is different.

JOHN: I do know. I'm a cop. This is what I do.

FRANK: When?

JOHN: October 22, 1969.

FRANK: Jesus Christ...that's...ten days from now. How?

FRANK: Right here, Chief. Sorry I lost you last night. Damn thing keeps cutting out.

JOHN: Dad...Dad... There's... I need to...

FRANK: Are you alright"?

JOHN: Something happened, something...

FRANK: What? Johnny, what's wrong?

JOHN: It's Mom.

FRANK: What? What is it?

JOHN: She's not here.

FRANK: Whatta you mean she's not here?

JOHN: She...she died. It's like it just happened.

FRANK: She just died, your mother just died?

JOHN: No Dad, it happened a long time ago, a long time ago for me.

JOHN: Dad, I gotta tell you this...cause you should know. Cause I still remember.

FRANK: What, Johnny? What is it?

JOHN: What it was like when you died in the fire...

JOHN: We're doing all right, Dad. We're doing good.

FRANK: Tell me.

JOHN: It's hard to explain. Something happened today. It was like a dream. And when I woke up I had all these new memories. Good times. Times we never had before.

FRANK: I'm glad.

JOHN: Dad, you there? You okay?

FRANK: Yeah. I'm okay. What about you? I want to know. About you. And your mom.

JOHN: Dad...?

FRANK: Chief?! Is that you?

JOHN: Yeah, it's me.

FRANK: You're the voice of an angel, Johnny. If you hadn't told me, no way I would'a ever made it.

JOHN: Don't go. Don't go in that warehouse...

FRANK: I don't understand.

FRANK: But that's tomorrow.

JOHN: Tomorrow. Jesus...it hasn't happened. It doesn't have to happen.

FRANK: What are you talking about?

JOHN: I lost you.

FRANK: What?

JOHN: I never knew you, Dad.

FRANK: Why?

JOHN: Fire.

FRANK: On the job?

JOHN: It was an abandoned warehouse - hit by lightening. Butch told Ma it was just one wrong turn. Said it wasn't your fault. You went with the training, with your instincts. If you'd just gone left instead of right, you would've made it.

FRANK: That can't be...that's not gonna happen.

JOHN: It did, Pop. It did.

FRANK: When?

JOHN: October 12, 1969.

JOHN: What's that?

FRANK: I think I'm losing you.

JOHN: No wait, don't go!

FRANK: It's okay. I'm still here, Chief.

JOHN: But you're not...you're not still here.

FRANK: You're still my Little Chief, right?

JOHN: I'm trying to be, Dad. I'm tyrin'. It's good to hear your voice. I missed you...so much.

JOHN: No, not yet.

FRANK: Too busy playin' ball, huh?

JOHN: Nah, I gave it up.

FRANK: It's really you, isn't it?

JOHN: Yeah...I think so.

FRANK: 1998...? This is wrong. Who are you? Why are you doing this?

JOHN: I'm not doing anything. Look, I don't know what's going on. But I swear on my life, I"m here at your old desk, on your Ham, in our house, right now...in 1998.

FRANK: You sound...ground up...?

JOHN: I'm thirty-five years old.

FRANK: Thirty-five? That would make it...

JOHN: 1998.

FRANK: How could this be happening?

JOHN: I don't know.

FRANK: We gotta be bouncing off the mother sun spot of all time.

JOHN: Sun spot?

FRANK: Yeah, that's how Hams work.

JOHN: Wait a sec...there was something on the news. Something about this space anomaly. I think they said it was connected to some storm in '69.

JOHN: Dad...?

FRANK: Johnny...?

FRANK: That's impossible.

JOHN: What if it's not...

JOHN: Oh my god.

FRANK: What?

JOHN: You just burned the desk.

FRANK: What's happening?

JOHN: What's going on?

FRANK: Nothing...I just spilled something.

FRANK: What the hell...

JOHN: I'm dreaming this. Shit, this is a dream.

FRANK: I'm not dreaming.

FRANK: 29 years...?

JOHN: My dad's name was Frank Patrick Sullivan, he was a fire fighter and a die-hard Mets fan. And every night when I went to bed he sang to me... Take me out to the ball game, take me out with the crowd...

JOHN: Now you listen to me. My name is John Francis Sullivan, I live at 1060 41st, where I've lived my whole life. And I saw the first game of the '69 Series at my Uncle Butch's house with my father...

FRANK: What?

JOHN: 29-years ago.

JOHN: What'd you say your station...uh, your call letters were?

FRANK: W...B...2...YXB.

JOHN: You call your son Little Chief?

FRANK: Uh huh...

JOHN: What'd you say your name was?

FRANK: Frank...Frank Sullivan.

JOHN: Is this some kind of joke? Gordo is that you? Are you fucking with me?

FRANK: Look pal, I'm just askin' how you...

JOHN: You're telling me your name is Frank Sullivan, you live in Queens and you just saw the first game of the '69 Series...live?

FRANK: Right...and I'm asking how you called the game.

JOHN: Gordo, if this is you, so help me...

FRANK: What the hell does Gordy have to do with it?

FRANK: Sorry 'bout that.

JOHN: What'd you just say?

FRANK: Oh, that was my kid.

FRANK: ...WB2YXB calling unidentified station, Queens. CQ 15.

JOHN: Hello?

FRANK: I been Q-ing you all night. How the hell did you do it?

JOHN: Huh?

FRANK: The World Series. You called Buford's homer.

JOHN: Wasn't too tough, buddy. Game happened almost thirty years ago.

FRANK: What are you talking about? I'm talking about this afternoon.

JOHN: This afternoon?

FRANK: I'm right with you, man. He's got the heart of a lion. Hey, how 'bout the first game of the Series?

JOHN: Yeah. It was all over after Buford nailed Seaver's first pitch outta the park.

FRANK: Sorry 'bout that. So Queens, you psyched for the Series?

JOHN: I don't really follow baseball anymore.

FRANK: What?

JOHN: I got fed up with all the bullshit.

FRANK: Fed up? Lemme tell you something, in a 1000 years, when school kids study America, they're gonna learn about three things: the Constitution, Rock 'n' Roll, and Baseball.

FRANK: Where are you transmitting from?

JOHN: Queens, New York.

FRANK: Whatta ya know. Bayside, born and raised.

JOHN: I thought these things were for talkin' around the world.

FRANK: 15-band closes down at night. During the day you can chew the band with China if you want.

JOHN: I can't believe people are still using these things.

FRANK: Are you licensed to broadcast, buddy?

JOHN: Look, I don't really remember how this thing works.

FRANK: Listen, you can't broadcast without a license. Unless this is an emergency, you gotta get off the band.

JOHN: Pal, my whole life's an emergency.

JOHN: Uh, hello?

FRANK: WB2YKXB, who've I got?

JOHN: Name's John.

GORDO: I better give you my address then.

JOHN: Oh don't worry kid, I know where you live. Now I want you to go upstairs and write this down, buy Yahoo. You got that Space Cowboy. Y-a-h-o-o. It's a magic word and I never want you to forget it.

GORDO: You got a deal, mister. I mean Santa.

GORDO: This is the Space Cowboy. I'm an intergalactic traveler from the Federation planet earth.

JOHN: Gordo?

GORDO: How'd you know my name, mister?

GORDO: Huh?

JOHN: The Ham radio. That's how come he didn't die in the fire.

JOHN: My father didn't die in a fire?

GORDO: Huh?

JOHN: My father didn't die in a fire?

GORDO: Fire? What are you talking about? He had cancer, John.

JOHN: Cancer. It was the cigarettes. Right? The cigarettes?

GORDO: Yeah, lung cancer. Ten years ago.

GORDO: John. John, you all right?

JOHN: Longbranch...?

GORDO: What?

GORDO: How you feeling?

JOHN: Better.

GORDO: C'mon, man. Get inside. I'll come over. We'll play some Nintendo.

JOHN: No. I gotta tell him the address, so he doesn't go in.

GORDO: Go in where?

JOHN: The warehouse. Buxton seeds. It's tomorrow.

GORDO: I know pal. I remember. Twenty-nine years tomorrow.

GORDO: Sull! What the hell!

JOHN: I talked to him Gordo. I talked to my Dad.

GORDO: Hey, OK if Gordy uses your old gear?

JOHN: I think it's somewhere in the closet... if you can find it.

GORDO: Hey, Sull. My cable's out again.

JOHN: What the hell is that smell?

JOHN: I'm not your uncle, kid. Gordo, what are you doing here?

GORDO: Sully! Is that you?

SATCH: He ain't our guy, John.

JOHN: Just cause he didn't want to look at the photos doesn't mean he isn't the doer. Not everyone fits the profile.

SATCH: Got a minute?

JOHN: Yeah. Sure.

JOHN: I ran him through BCI...got a hit. Busted for sexual assault: March 22, 1970. Eight days after the last Nightingale murder.

SATCH: So you figure the murders stop 'cause he's off the street. Then by the time he gets paroled, he's smartened up enough to control himself?

JOHN: Not the first time that's been true. I'm telling you, I got a feeling about this guy. This is the guy, Satch.

SATCH: Uh, huh.

JOHN: What?

SATCH: I'm just trying to figure what interests me more: the possibility that Daryl is the guy, or you making him absolutely the guy.

JOHN: Okay, lemme walk you through it.

SATCH: Mind if I shake it off first...so's I can concentrate better.

JOHN: Our lucky break. Mario ID'd the dental. Mary Finelli...reported missing April 16, 1968.

SATCH: April 16...? That means she was the first.

JOHN: Which means he probably knew her.

SATCH: This case just got hot. We pull on this string...

JOHN: That's what we need here, Satch. A lucky break.

SATCH: That wasn't luck, Johnny boy. That was smarts and ten plus on the job.

SATCH: She makes ten.

JOHN: Ten? No. I remember this case. Three. He killed three women.

SATCH: What're you talking'? You know better than anybody, John. You've read this file a thousand times.

SATCH: This is getting real old, John. And I'm tired up to here with it...

JOHN: I'm sorry. I just...you know...I...

SATCH: And I'm tired of the I'm sorrys. I don't need 'em. What I need is a partner I can count on. I care about you. Not cause of me and your old man. Not cause of your mom. But because of you.

SATCH: Another rough night, huh? That it?

JOHN: Yeah. That's it.

SATCH: Maybe you outta lay off a little...

JOHN: Gordo, I wasn't dreaming. I talked to him, it was real.

SATCH: You're not looking too good.

JOHN: Whoa, I just...I just...

SATCH: Don't choke on your pride, Sull. You ain't ever gonna catch another one like that.

JOHN: She made up her mind. Nothin' I do is gonna change it.

SATCH: Nothing you're willing to do.

JULIA: My six year-old here keeps telling me he wants to be a policeman. Right after he retires from the majors. We just gave him a badge and a whistle for his birthday.

JOHN: Yeah...I remember. I used to play cops and robbers but y-- ...my mom wouldn't let me have a toy gun.

JULIA: You're mom sounds like she's got some smarts.

JOHN: She's pretty special.

JULIA: Are you a good cop, John?

JOHN: I try to be.

JULIA: Then I'll bet she's real proud of you, huh?

JOHN: Yeah. I just wish I'd told her how proud I was of her.

JULIA: I'm sorry. I didn't realize... But she knew, John. A mother knows what's in her son's heart.

JULIA: Hey, future boy. Frank tells me you're a cop?

JOHN: Yeah, that's right.

JOHN: So how'd you like LION KING?

JULIA: Oh, I loved it. I wish you'd gone.

JOHN: I know. I'm sorry. Work.

JULIA: You work too hard, John.

JOHN: Look who's talking.

JULIA: I'm sure everything'll work out. She really loves you...

JOHN: So how are things at the hospital?

JULIA: Fine. You know Dr. Schwartz retired last month?

JOHN: No kidd'n, he musta been pushing 90!

JULIA: Close.

JULIA: I thought it'd be nicer to eat here.

JOHN: Sounds good.

JULIA: I'm sorry Sam couldn't make it.

JOHN: Yeah, those grad school applications are driving her crazy.

JULIA: Hi, this is Julia. Please leave a message after the tone.

JOHN: Hey, Ma, it's me. Checking in. Probably at work. Anyways, I'll see you tomorrow night. Love you.

SHEPARD: Who the fuck is this?

JOHN: Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.

SHEPARD: Sullivan?

JOHN: You have the right to speak to an att --

SHEPARD: Fuck you, asshole.

JOHN: It's a small world, Carl. And I'm gonna find you. Real soon.

SHEPARD: Hell-

JOHN: You have the right to remain silent. If you give up that right...

SHEPARD: Who are you?

JOHN: I'm the train wreck you didn't see coming. And I'm gonna steal your life away. You went down 30 years ago. You just don't know it yet.

SHEPARD: Huh.

JOHN: Talk about dumb luck. Odds of anybody finding that girl, thirty years later. And then the chances of hitting a dental...forget about it. Bets part is she's the first victim. She knew the doer. I'm betting those bones are gonna do a lot of talking.

SHEPARD: No kiddin'?

JOHN: No. Missing teenager. Disappeared thirty years ago. Found her bones last week. Buried behind some old diner, up by Dyckman street. Mary Finelli.

JOHN: The 2-3. Homicide.

SHEPARD: A hot shot, huh?

JOHN: Nah, just working the job.

SHEPARD: I hear that.

JOHN: As a matter of fact, I caught a case that goes back to your day...one of the Nightingale murders.

JOHN: You used to be on the job?

SHEPARD: Yeah, long time ago. I know you?

JOHN: I look familiar?

SHEPARD: No. What house you work?

JOHN: Wife around?

SHEPARD: No. No. Well, sort of. In my heart. Been dead 29 years.

JOHN: Oh. Sorry. How so?

JOHN: Just came by to wrap up over there. Thought I'd say "hello."

SHEPARD: Glad you did. Come on in. Buy you a cup of coffee?