No, no, no, please...
No... No... No...
No... No!
( yells )
( groaning )
Please... Please don't kill me.
I don't want to die.
( loud, sharp crack )
Footwear impressions.
I count... three.
I count four.
TAYLOR: Well, we'll find out when we process.
Caucasian male.
Twenties.
Young.
TAYLOR: Beaten pretty badly.
Lucky for us it happened out here.
We have the best investigative tool
money can't buy:
snow.
♪ Out here in the fields ♪
♪ I fought for my meals ♪
♪ I get my back into my living ♪
♪ I don't need to fight ♪
♪ To prove I'm right ♪
♪ I don't need to be forgiven, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah ♪
♪ Yeah. ♪
Nothing like a little home-cooked forensics, huh, Mac?
I always like working with prill sulfur.
It's very accommodating.
Smells like rotten eggs.
Means it's almost ready.
Mm! Watch your flame.
You don't want it to get too hot.
All right...
( cans rattling )
...so, you want to pour or paint?
Pour.
I was hoping you'd say that.
♪ ♪
Stella.
Broken baseball bat.
I didn't find any bats.
I did find tire tracks.
HAWKES: Prints came back.
His name is Paul Montenassi from Yonkers.
Age 26.
Is the cause of death as obvious as it seems?
Blunt force trauma to multiple regions of the body:
Skull...
Sternum...
Ulna...
Tibia...
you name it.
Roll him over to his good side,
will you? I don't want his mother
to have to see him like this.
What's with the tattoo?
Looks like it was scraped or sanded off.
After I post him, I'm going to see if can lift
the artwork from under the flesh.
Flashing.
Whoa. Do that again.
There's something on his face.
High velocity blood spatter.
( indistinct radio communication )
Marta Santo.
Hispanic female. 30 years old.
EMS pronounced.
We called you out here for suspicious circumstances.
Some of these skid marks look a little out of whack.
( indistinct radio communication )
Aiden, check this out.
Got a silver paint transfer.
Still some flakes present.
Barely hanging on. Indicates recent damage.
We got a hit-and-run.
HAWKES: Cause of death to your hit-and-run victim:
Massive internal trauma.
Crushing injuries to the lower extremities.
Femur, tibia, fibula-- shattered.
Crushed pelvis. She bled internally.
Anything out of the ordinary?
I discovered some vaginal tearing.
She also has some lacerations
and abrasions on her arms and face;
bruising on her neck and wrists.
What you think? Rape?
That... or very rough sex.
I've seen both on my table.
I'll collect a sexual assault kit.
I'm gonna go talk to Marta Santo's emergency contact.
Who's that? Her mother?
Husband.
( whispering ): Why, Marta?
Why didn't you listen to me?
I told you to stay home.
Not go to work.
You don't drive good at night.
You...
( crying quietly )
You promised me...
...everything would be all right.
You promised never to leave me alone in this world!
Marta! Why did you leave me, Marta?! Please!
Mr. Santo...
Marta!
Mr. Santo...
Marta!
Mr. Santo!
( sobbing )
Ms. Montenassi, I'm very sorry about your son.
How could this happen?
We found part of a tattoo on his shoulder.
Tattoo?
My son doesn't have a tattoo.
Yes, ma'am, he does.
A tattoo of this kind leads us to believe
he may have had some
kind of gang affiliation.
My son wasn't in any gangs, Mr. Taylor.
He was a good boy.
I'm sure he was, ma'am.
We're just trying to understand.
The truth is...
I don't know what Paul was doing
when he walked out the front door.
He kept to himself about his friends.
( heavy sigh )
When his father and I got a divorce,
Paul and I started to drift apart.
I don't think he ever recovered from that.
And I can see he needed a sense of belonging.
And I did
all that I could to love him with all my heart.
But he was looking for a family
and I couldn't keep that together for him.
( sobs )
It's my fault.
( sobbing laugh )
( whispering ): It's all my fault.
Ms. Montenassi...
I didn't your boy, but I know how he felt.
I know firsthand what it's like to need to belong.
The one who's at fault
is the person who killed your son; not you.
Hang in there, ma'am.
Hey, you were working the hit-and-run.
Mac beeped me off of it.
All the other CSIs are on different crime scene runs.
So, sorry it took us so long to respond.
It's just been a busy tour.
That's the store owner, Harish Lev.
His brother, Mihok Lev, was shot behind the counter.
EMS removed him, but he went into cardiac arrest
and expired on his way to the hospital.
His body should be at the morgue by now.
Looks like a robbery-homicide.
Mr. Lev, are you okay?
That bastard killed my brother.
( gunshot )
Do you have surveillance here?
Say no more.
Hey, Mac, how's it going with the bat?
I think... it's a Mickey Mantle.
If it is, it's a collector's item.
Autographed bat from "the Mick"
goes for about five grand these days.
Wow. Expensive murder weapon.
Why would you kill someone
with a $5,000 bat?
Good question.
Oh, there she is.
"Crouching" Aiden, "Hidden" Burn.
You're on this case,
you're on that case, the other case...
What's up with "Rambo" at the M.E.'s office? He psycho or what?
He wigged out.
I don't know what to say.
He got blood all over me.
What are you working on?
I'm running the unknown paint chip
we collected from the victim's red car
against color standards
for all major
automotive manufacturers.
We're going to need it.
Silver's one of the most popular colors in North America
for an automobile.
That's great.
Measuring infrared absorption.
( computer beeping )
Data acquisition mode.
Removing interfering background gases.
Ah. Bingo, baby.
Got an infrared fingerprint on the unknown paint chip.
That's all we need to know.
The database is huge,
so it might take awhile
to nail down the make, model, and year of the car.
Well, I'll have the lab run it
and notify us of any hits.
Good.
What do you got there?
Shavings from the bat?
TAYLOR: Not likely.
Wood shavings are in the treads of every shoe print.
A broken bat wouldn't shed that much wood.
No, these are more refined.
Sawdust, maybe?
Better add shuffleboard wax to that.
The mysterious substance I just isolated
from Paul Montenassi's shirt...
was shuffleboard wax.
Sawdust, shuffleboard wax...
a bar, maybe?
( pager beeps )
DNA.
You beeped?
That was fast.
I know all the shortcuts to the M.E.'s office.
What's up?
I found your killer from the bodega
in Spanish Harlem.
I tell you, these AB 3100's get dirty so quickly.
What do you mean you found my killer?
Oh, I ran
the high velocity blood spatter
you spotted on the face of Paul Montenassi.
It came back to Mihok Lev,
the clerk from your bodega.
So Paul Montenassi killed the clerk.
Only question is who killed Paul Montenassi?
All right.
The footage of the homicide from the bodega.
There's only one wrinkle in the brother's story.
According to Aiden,
he never mentioned holding a bat.
He returned exactly one hour
and six minutes after the shooting.
Plenty of time to commit murder and come back.
Yes, that's me.
That's my bat. What's the problem?
The problem is the man who murdered your brother
was killed with a baseball bat.
Not by me.
Look, I chased the guy out of the store.
You left your brother for dead for over an hour?
You didn't call for help.
When I saw him shot, I snapped.
I wasn't thinking clearly.
Where's the bat now?
I left it in the street.
I wasn't thinking about the bat.
I wanted to get my hands around the man who shot my brother!
Pretty expensive bat
to leave in the middle of the street.
Signed Mickey Mantle.
Mickey Mantle?
That bat I had
was aluminum.
Marta Santo's got something up her sleeve.
On her sleeve is more like it.
Got sperm?
What was this lady doing?
I don't know,
but we probably got multiple donors here.
I got one locked down; the husband, Ramir Santo.
Sex assault came back positive.
Flack did a background check.
This guy's got priors for domestic violence.
Six counts in two years.
Six counts?
You're going to attempt to restore the tattoo.
I just went out
and bought a 1,000-watt lamp.
I'm going to burn Paul Montenassi.
The tattoo's relatively new so I thought I'd give it a shot.
I've cleaned the surrounding area.
Now all I have to do is apply a second-degree burn
to the epidermis and let it rise.
TAYLOR: "Tanglewood."
Mean anything to you?
I haven't spent much time there, but I know someone who has.
It's a "fugazi."
It's fake.
This ink might be real,
but there's no way this is a Tanglewood boy.
There's no "in date."
You see right here?
The real tattoo, would have an in date,
which is the day you join
and have an out date,
which is the day you leave legitimately.
Which, by the way, rarely happens.
This kid's definitely a wannabe.
You seem pretty certain.
I played baseball with these kids back at Roosevelt.
Hung out with them here and there.
They wanted me to "come in" with them one time,
but I didn't want to get mixed up.
I knew what they were all about:
women, cars, coke,
guns, sleep till noon,
hang out at the New Rochelle mall all hours of the day.
All their fathers, they're all connected.
These kids-- believe me--
are more made than the made guys.
Nowadays, it ain't the mobsters
you gotta worry about.
It's the next generation.
What's the difference?
( quietly ): What's the difference?
These kids don't give a...
What about rival crews?
Back in the day
it was the Pelham crew from Pelham Bay.
Let me just tell you one thing.
Frontin' you're a Tanglewood boy
and getting caught by a Tanglewood boy
or running into the Pelham crew alone as a Tanglewood boy
is just as deadly, believe me.
I want to apologize for my actions.
I have
anger-management issues.
You think?
Six domestic cases
in two years?
I'm not proud of that, Detective.
Look, Mr. Santo, prior to your
wife's death, she was either raped by you,
or you were engaged in rough sex.
Can you explain that?
Marta was a nymphomaniac.
She liked it rough.
So, I gave it to her rough.
Give over there!
( gasping )
I'll kill you in this bed, you bitch!
Yes! No!
Like I said, she liked it rough.
We see that.
All right, out of curiosity,
what kind of car do you drive?
I ride a motorcycle.
We also found evidence
of sexual promiscuity from multiple donors
on the sleeves of your wife's work clothes.
Can you explain that?
No, uh...
She worked in a hair salon in the West Village.
Where in the West Village?
Hair salon?
Hello.
I'm Madam Tuki Song.
Are you here for a massage?
AIDEN: No, ma'am.
Do you know this woman?
Yes. That's Marta Santo.
DANNY: She died in a car accident.
We suspect foul play.
( speaks Chinese )
We're going to need to see your guest list
and Marta Santo's work area.
DANNY: Now I see why Marta Santos hid where she worked, huh?
After what the husband did to you,
could you imagine what he'd do to his wife
if he ever found out?
Most of these "rub and tug" joints
are owned by Asian mob.
Not a high turnover rate.
Once you're hired, you can't quit.
You're trapped.
It's a tough life.
So, this is where it all goes down.
Or up. Make sure you keep your gloves on.
You know, I didn't think it would be this clean.
Come on.
Act like you haven't been
to a place like this before.
Are you kidding me?
I had girlfriends for that. Why would I pay?
You're payin' one way or the other. Trust me.
What do you make of this?
This is Chernobyl.
Oh, man.
Let me check the guest list.
See who last person was to see Marta Santo.
Okay, here we go.
"World-class massage focusing on deep tissue."
Deep tissue-- that's classic.
Marta Santo, massage therapist, last client...
"R. Lee."
Call Jane Parsons in DNA.
Have her check the CODIS hits.
See if this R. Lee comes up as one
of the lucky ones on Marta Santo's sleeve.
Is it safe to come in here?
( scoffs )
Holsters's bothering me.
What's up?
Nothing. I was just running some results.
How's that Tanglewood case going for you?
Steady.
Steady? Steady's good.
Steady's good.
What is it, Danny?
I don't know.
I keep thinking about that kid, Mac.
You know, going through all the motions?
Fake tattoo and all.
Putting on this front just to belong.
Just sounds really desperate,
you know?
Yeah.
That's why I joined the service.
I wanted to serve my country more than anything in the world.
I would have done anything to get in the Marines.
This kid just went about the sense of belonging
the wrong way and...
paid for it somehow with his life.
Made the wrong choice.
Yeah, but you had that choice.
Could have gone with these kids, but you didn't.
You were smarter than that.
Look where you are today.
You're respected,
you're law-abiding,
you're performing an important civil service
for the finest city in the world.
You should be proud of that.
I am proud of that. I am.
Good.
Get to work.
Hey, Mac,
I got pearls.
Pearls? From who?
Not those kind of pearls.
I got good news on our case.
Jane called from DNA.
The blood on the bat came back a mixture.
Paul Montenassi and who?
Johnny Lucerno from Pelham Bay.
Pelham Bay?
In that case, I've got pearls.
Danny said they like to hang out
at the New Rochelle Mall.
Mall security called me.
This kid Johnny Lucerno's been 86'd
for shoplifting before.
He's back in the store with his buddies.
The manager's trying to keep him there till we arrive.
Well, we've arrived.
What looks sweeter on me, Auburn or Warriors?
Auburn, dawg.
Go with Hawaii, yo.
Timmy Chang, yo!
My man throws hellah touchdowns.
I'm all about Cadillac Williams, dawg.
You should be trying on baseball teams.
Yeah, we hear you're pretty good with a bat.
What are you guys, a couple of homos or something?
I was about to ask you the same thing.
NYPD, smart guy!
Ow!
Watch it, man. I got stitches.
Good.
What happened to your head?
Some kid cold-cocked me
with a baseball bat outside a sports bar.
Put 25 stitches in my head.
Doctor said I had a slight concussion,
but I'm actually more pissed they shaved my head.
It's ruining my action
with the ladies.
You vibing me?
No.
You suspect the person
who hit you was a Tanglewood boy?
All I can tell you is this:
I have a pretty good idea who's behind it.
And when the time is right,
it'll get taken care of.
Trust me.
What was the name of the sports bar?
It's Billy Batts'. It's outside of Yonkers.
Shuffleboard, sawdust.
This must be the place.
What can I get you?
Information.
Some kids from Tanglewood and Pelham Bay
were hanging out here the other night.
Were you working?
I don't know anything.
I just keep my eyes down, pour the drinks.
What about memorabilia?
You guys missing a Mickey Mantle bat?
All I can say is
if you want to get cash out,
you got to use the ATM over there.
MAC: Mickey Mantle bat. $5000.
That's a lot of money for a piece of wood.
Let's dust this case for prints.
Sonny Sassone.
Tanglewood...
( loud rap music playing )
You want to turn that pollution down.
Sonny Sassone?
Who wants to know?
NYPD.
( shuts off music )
How do you know Paul Montenassi?
I seen him around. Why?
He's dead.
Yeah? Good for him.
Was he a Tanglewood boy?
Hell no. You're looking at the Tanglewood boys right here.
Check the tat.
When was the last time you were at Billy Batts'?
Couple of nights ago.
You like Mickey Mantle?
Who doesn't?
TAYLOR: We have proof that you stole a bat
from that sports bar.
That's why you're here-- because of a bat.
I didn't steal it.
I was messing around with it.
Oh... Let me show you how Mick used to do it.
Put your head right here. Go ahead.
Oh! Oh!
I was just playing around.
I put it back.
Looks like you put in a new back window.
They didn't do a good job
setting it.
Butyl putty smeared all over the place.
It's a shoddy job if you ask me.
I got it re-tinted.
Those idiots in Queens made it bubble.
New tires, too, huh?
We rock everything new all the time, lady.
Tires, rims, kicks,
threads, china, weed--
name it.
Mind if we search your car?
You got a warrant?
We can get one.
Like Jay-Z said
on the black album-- "I didn't pass the bar, but I know a little bit.
Enough so you don't illegally search my..."
We'll get the warrant.
Until then, you're free to go.
Guys, we're out.
( loud rap music playing )
Have any of that spray paint left?
Oh, yeah.
How you doing?
May I help you?
Yeah, we need to see Ross Lee.
Tell him the NYPD is here.
I'm sorry. He's in a meeting
with some ad creatives right now.
Oh, he's been creative enough.
MAN: I don't understand.
Why would I go there? I'm a happily married man.
And my back is fine.
I'm sure your back is fine, Mr. Lee.
And it's your front we're interested in.
Shut the door, Tavia.
( door closes )
I did it. Okay, I'm sorry.
I'm new at this job.
I'm under a lot of stress.
I'm not happy in my marriage, and I needed...
You ready
for a deep massage, Mr. Lee?
Oh, yeah.
We're going to need to look at your car.
I take a subway into the city.
I don't drive, my wife does.
Yeah, and your wife--
how does she feel about this?
Did you tell her?
Uh... no.
She doesn't know,
and there's no reason for you to tell her.
I will cooperate with you all the way down the line.
Here's my card. It's temporary.
My name and cell phone number
are on the back there.
Great. So we'll be in touch.
So to speak.
Sonny Sassone.
Size ten.
Tread pattern
in the driveway compared to impressions found
at the scene.
consistent in size, not in pattern.
Tanglewood boy number two-- Tony Baba.
Shoe size--
11 and a half from the impressions
found at the crime scene...
compared to those from the driveway.
Consistent in size, not in pattern.
Tanglewood boy number three-- Joe Spangal.
Shoe size--
nine and a half.
Prints found at the crime scene
compared to those in the driveway.
Again, consistent in size, not in pattern.
They swapped out their sneakers.
So we still need to prove
that they were with Paul Montenassi.
Surveillance camera at the bar?
Atam.
Who's Adam?
ATM machine from Billy Batts'.
Every six seconds it records a frame.
Here we go-- night of the murder.
On stills.
TAYLOR: There's Paul Montenassi with some girl
at the bar.
Paul's showing off his unofficial tattoo.
Chances are
she knows the real guys.
Look, she bails.
An hour later, Sonny Sassone
and the Tanglewood boys show up.
They befriend Paul,
and checks out his phony tattoo.
There goes Sonny.
He takes the bat out of the case.
I don't see him taking any practice swings.
I think he wants to take
some practice swings at this kid sitting down.
It's Johnny Lucerno from Pelham Bay.
The kid with the stitches.
Shortly after that
Paul Montenassi hit Johnny Lucerno
over the head and shot a clerk? Why?
If he's not a real Tanglewood boy?
Let's ask Sonny Sassone--
after we process his Range Rover.
We have enough for our warrant.
This is a stone I found on the floor,
and it's not a diamond.
It's a cubic zirconium.
Most likely from somebody's nails.
All right, well, then in that case
Let's run the adhesive from the gem
and the red nail polish through the Mass Spec.
I got a database hit on your paint chips.
Your suspect's driving a silver Lincoln Navigator.
What year?
'05.
Here's where it gets good, though.
Ross Lee's wife, Ariana, is a registered owner of one herself.
Never guess the color.
Silver.
Miss Lee, are you familiar with Wuhan Spa and Sauna?
No. Can't say that I am.
It's a massage parlor that gives a lot more than massages.
Were you aware that your husband goes there?
I'm not surprised.
I sensed that he's been chippying around
behind my back.
Every time he was supposed to be at the chiropractor,
he'd come home smelling funny.
Funny how?
He smelled like lotion...
You know, down there.
I talked to one
of my girlfriends about it, but she had no idea.
That's a nice color on your nails.
What is that, royal red?
Ruby Passion.
MESSER: Miss Lee, where do you
park your Lincoln Navigator?
Thank you.
What happened here, ma'am?
Oh, silly me.
I hit a fire hydrant parking at the mall.
Don't tell Ross. He will kill me.
All right, well, we're going to need to take
a few paint samples
from your bumper just to be sure.
And every bottle of your nail polish.
Running the red paint from the wife's Navigator.
I got the nail polish in the oven.
Okay, take a look at that monitor.
The red spectrum
is from a paint scraping from Marta Santo's car,
and he blue spectrum
is from the unknown sample we took
from Ariana Lee's Navigator.
Come on.
Different spectrum.
Different paints. Strike one.
None of the nail polishes
match either.
Strike two, and they got us in the hole.
And all we have left
is the mystery paint transfer and the guest list.
MESSER: I don't understand it.
How could the paint come back from the hit-and-run
to a silver Navigator,
and not be the one owned by the wife,
the last person Marta Santo massaged?
Don't say strike three yet.
Take a look at this.
Two days before Ross Lee got his rocks off
an "A. Lee" signed in
to Marta Santo.
A. Lee as in Ariana Lee?
My eyes are watering from the bleach.
Never seen a dashboard
so clean.
I'm not getting anything back here either.
Who is that on the dashboard, Mickey Mantle?
TAYLOR: I'm not sure.
It kind of looks like Derek Jeter.
Derek Jeter. From the Yankees, right?
Yeah.
Didn't they get beat
by Boston or something?
We were up
three to zero and then we got swept.
But, we're trying to forget that.
Right.
I'm not much into baseball.
But A-Rod's pretty hot.
The backseat is totally clean.
I'm coming up front.
Positive for blood.
Got to love Derek Jeter.
JANE: Your blood sample was degraded.
BONASERA: Oh, Jane, you're kidding, aren't you?
Afraid not.
How can that be?
There was an insufficient amount
of high molecular weight DNA to get a full profile.
I was only able to get results
at the three smallest of the 13 loci.
The amount of blood was just too minimal.
And the bleach exposure didn't help our cause either.
BONASERA: What else, Mac?
I mean, that's all we got out of the car.
The warrant covers everything.
We'll go back and check the house.
Thanks, Jane.
Reference sample of the signature
we just got from the wife, Ariana Lee.
First things first. Matching "A. Lee"
from the guest list to our exemplar.
It's not a match,
so she didn't lie about being there.
It's not her signature.
So who signed in for her?
Well, it couldn't be Ross.
He didn't want the wife to know he's even there.
Let's try something.
Matching "Ross Lee" from the guest list
to "A. Lee" from the guest list.
It wasn't him.
Why don't you try that business card he gave you?
Let's make sure that Ross Lee is Ross Lee.
All right. Comparing "Ross Lee" from the business card
with the "Ross Lee" from the guest list.
Not a match. What the hell's goin' on?
This signature on the back
of your card, it's not your signature.
Someone signed in
for your wife at Wuban Spa and Sauna.
Who else signs for you?
Uh, my secretary... Tavia.
BURN: If your name's Tavia Greenburg,
why would you sign in for Ross Lee's wife?
I didn't. I've never been there in my life.
Come on...
The signatures don't lie. The "A. Lee"
from the guest list matches the reference signature
you just gave us.
We're thinking you went down there
to have a talk with the woman
who was moving in on your boss.
Or your lover.
Miss Lee, what kind of massage do you want today?
You know, I'm not here for a massage.
You come near my man again and I will kill you.
We found these in your office drawer.
Press on nails.
This one in particular's missing a diamond stone.
And it gets better. According to the DMV,
you're also the owner of a silver Lincoln Navigator. 2005.
Same as Ross Lee's wife.
Name on the lease happens to be Ross Lee.
BURN: But you didn't sign for that one, did you? No.
You just drove a free car.
All right, look, Ross and I were lovers
and I would talk to his wife Ariana from time to time.
She thought we were friends.
I know it's scandalous.
Anyway, she came to me one day
and she said that she suspected Ross was having an affair.
She tipped you off.
When you found out he was being satisfied
by another woman, you wanted revenge.
You stay away from my man!
Do you hear me?!
( screaming )
Yeah, but, look, I meant to scare her.
I did not mean to kill her, okay?
Ross promised he was going to leave his wife for me.
I put five years into this man.
I wasn't going to lose him to some stranger.
Sorry, but you're going down for vehicular manslaughter two.
And I guess this is one romance
that doesn't have a happy ending.
Sonny Sassone's shed.
Just look for anything that sands.
Here we go.
This ought to do it.
TAYLOR: High-powered sander... cordless.
You're aware your waiving your right to counsel?
I don't need counsel.
This is gonna settle out of court.
You can't settle murder out of court.
You sure about that?
Maybe in your world. Not ours.
Now, why don't I start this story for you.
It begins at Billy Batts' Sports bar
when you first met Paul Montenassi.
When you confronted him,
you and your boys got him drunk.
My guess, with the false promise of affiliation.
What's your name?
Paul Montenassi.
This girls says you got a tattoo.
Whoa, that's tight, dawg.
That is some knock off.
Hang with us for a while?
Yeah.
Have a beer.
You were using Paul Montenassi.
Putting him to the test
with no intent of ever letting this kid be a Tanglewood boy.
Johnny Lucezno.
Pelham Bay kid. Rival crew.
Go Jeter his head.
But you underestimated him, didn't you?
You had him rob the bodega.
And when things went bad,
you had to shut him up.
Here's the money. Here's the gun.
It's warm. I told you
to rob the joint, not kill the guy.
Things get out of hand, man.
I took care of it.
I told you I'll do anything to get in.
What do you want me to do next?
You've done enough.
You didn't want any ties to the Tanglewood boys,
so you went home, you got your sander
and you took off his tattoo.
( screaming )
You killed Paul Montenassi in cold blood with a baseball bat.
I don't want to die, man.
Please... please, don't kill me.
That's right. That's the way we do it-- Mafia style.
You look a man dead in the eye
and you watch the light go out.
But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you, copper?
I'm a Marine, you little punk.
I've put men in the ground on foreign soil
so you can sleep at night.
But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you... kid?
Let me tell you something about the mob.
Back in their hey day
these old timers, they dealt in death and violence
because of one thing:
Business. Not sport.
They were smart.
You punks are idiots.
You're gonna tell me about the mob. Who are you?
What do you two make a year, huh?
$95,746.32 and we earn every penny of it.
( laughs )
I spend that a year on blow.
Yeah, I can tell.
Look at me.
You see me wearing a silk suit and a fat tie
with marinara sauce on my shirt?
Forget about old timers. Those days are dead as dead.
They were suckers.
They worked too hard.
The Tanglewood boys represent
the next generation of mobster.
Set up shop wherever we want. Pull any bitch we want.
Sniff the finest china.
Roll in six-figure cars.
And snuff out any punk-ass poser rat
who needs to be put back in his hole.
We have our own set of rules.
So do we.
I got news for you.
You and your buddies are going to Sing Sing
regardless of who you're connected to.
Mafia or no Mafia. He's good to go.
Get your ass up.
Yeah? Okay. We'll see.
Ask Danny Messer.
He works for you, right?
When you see him, ask him
the odds of me goin' away.
He knows all about us.
And we know all about him.
Sure you do.
Get him out of here.