(sirens blaring)
ANNOUNCER (over P.A.): There is nothing like New York City ADL basketball.
Welcome to the Mecca.
Tonight's main attraction-- the top high school
point guard in the city-- Riley Frazier.
CROWD (chanting): Riley! Riley! Riley! Riley!
Riley! Riley! Riley!
(buzzer sounding)
(cheering and whistling fades in)
(indistinct shouting)
What time is it?
ALL: Game time!
Come on, let's go.
Let's go. Come on.
(grunting)
(distant shouting)
(cheering and shouting)
ANNOUNCER: Ladies and gentlemen,
we are two minutes away from game time.
(cheering)
(bell rings) GUARD: Lights out!
Doors!
(static)
ANNOUNCER: We're in the fourth quarter with 45 seconds to go.
Coach Gavin's Dots trail by one.
The Higher Risers have been dominating
the second half of this game.
Jamal White slams one home.
High Risers lead to three.
Looks like Riley Frazier's
first appearance here at the Mecca
will end in defeat, unless he makes something happen.
Hemmingway passes the ball to Frazier.
Frazier makes a move.
Oh, this game is not over yet!
Riley Frazier shoots a two-pointer,
cutting the deficit to one.
But there's little time left on the clock.
Jones brings the ball in.
Pow! Frazier steals the ball!
12 seconds left in the game.
Come on. Just like we practiced, now.
Dribble between your legs.
And behind your back.
Second defender will rotate.
No time to pass. Pump, fake and shoot.
ANNOUNCER: Riley takes the shot...
ANNOUNCER: It's a shot from heaven! It's good.
(cheering and whooping)
Frazier makes the game-winning shot.
Frazier, with 29 points, is definitely the MVP
of tonight's game.
This is another victory for Coach Gavin Lewenten,
the winningest coach in ADL history.
The game tonight was brought to you by our corporate sponsor.
(cheering and whistling over radio)
(bell ringing)
There he is.
Heard your game
on the radio yesterday, little brother.
You know, if it were me,
I would have just jumped over everybody and dunked it.
Know what I'm saying? Oh, yeah.
Then your new ten-inch vertical would have woken up.
(laughter)
That game was for you-- a welcome home present.
Ah, thanks.
Uh... consider this my gift.
I'm clean.
No more drugs, and this time, I'm staying out.
And only two things kept me sane in that cell.
Listening to your games on the radio,
and the, uh, thought of seeing this pretty face again.
(indistinct radio communication, indistinct chatter)
MAN: Right there, down to the left...
FLACK: Our vic is Angela Kelly, stabbed several times.
Landlord called it in when she didn't answer the door.
She have a roommate?
Boyfriend moved in three weeks ago after he was released
from prison.
According to these letters I found in her bedroom...
...his name was Hank Frazier.
Looks like Angela left us a message.
♪ Out here in the fields ♪
♪ I fight for my meals ♪
♪ I get my back into my living ♪
♪ Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. ♪
(coughing)
(grunts)
ANNOUNCER: Eight seconds on the clock.
He shoots.
He scores! Hank Frazier has done it agai!
(camera shutter clicking)
RILEY: Heavenly Father, we thank You.
From Your hand comes every good thing.
We thank You for every earthly blessing,
strength and health.
The eyes of all wait upon You, O God.
And it is You who fills all living things
with the breath of life.
Thank You for family and fellowship.
We thank You for food and nourishment.
Bless Your name.
By this meal, feed us for Your holy service,
that we may be diligent
in the responsibilities You've given us.
Amen.
(pounding on door)
Police. Hank Frazier, you're coming with us. Stand up,
put your hands behind your head.
What are you doing to my brother?
FLACK: Hey, hey, stand back.
You're under arrest for the murder of Angela Kelly.
Whoa. Whoa, whoa, wait a minute.
H-Hold on.
This is crazy. Riley!
You know, some guys wait till after family dinner
before they go out and stab their girlfriends to death.
I'm just saying.
It's okay. You-You really expect me
to believe what you're saying?
Who do you suppose Hank is?
She wrote your name
on the door in her own blood.
No. No, no, no, no. I...
I didn't do this. I love Angie.
Hey, you don't know anything about me, man. Right.
What I do know--
there was no forced entry at the crime scene.
That means she either knew her killer,
or her killer had a key.
Or in your case,
both.
Cocaine found in the bedroom.
Preliminary tox screen says you got coke in your system.
You got out of prison three weeks ago
after doing a stint for possession.
How many times did you promise her you were gonna change?
Open your hand.
Ange, come on. You've only been out of jail for three weeks,
and you couldn't stay clean.
For me. I tried. You got to believe me.
Brought that into my home.
I'm done. I am so done.
I want you out.
I want you out now!
No, I ain't going anywhere.
Put my stuff down. No!
Put it down. Oh.
(Angela whimpering)
(Hank grunts)
(Angela groaning, Hank grunting)
(Hank grunts, Angela gasps)
What kind of game you playing then, huh?
Isn't a game.
Yeah, well, I couldn't have done that
because I wasn't there.
I was in a dope house getting high.
That's your alibi-- you were in a crack house getting high?
Yeah.
Your Honor, I'd like
to call my next witnesses-- Two Tooth Willy
and Crackhead Pooky.
You think that's gonna fly in front of a judge and a jury?
Most likely, since your coke got tossed around the room,
you were out trying to get more.
Look, fine.
Yeah, I'll tell you everything.
I'll-I'll give you the whole thing.
But first, I...
I need to talk to my brother.
SID: They say death by 1,000 paper cuts is torture.
Death by ten stab wounds isn't much better.
Oh, fits the theory.
Crime of passion.
Any drugs in her system?
Tox results say no.
Judging by the shape of the wounds,
the murder weapon was most likely a knife.
Most wounds are on her right side.
On the palm, the forearm.
Defensive wounds.
All, except one.
At the top of her spine.
Yeah, probably inflicted
when she was trying to run away.
Indeed, but her will to fight
may help us.
I found epithelials under her nails.
In addition to that,
I also found... something else.
It appears to be laminated plastic
with a reflective surface.
I'll have Adam take a closer look.
Finally, I found this interesting.
While three of the victim's wounds show hilt marks,
the other seven do not.
Well, maybe they were delivered
with less force.
Maybe the killer got fatigued.
A sobering thought, to say the least.
However, using dissection, I discovered
that the deepest wound tracts belong
to the wounds without hilt marks.
Well, how could that be
if they were delivered with less force?
(camera shutter clicking)
♪ We ain't got not name, no, we ain't got no name ♪
♪ They're rougher in this thing ♪
♪ 'Cause there's status here to claim ♪
♪ Want it in my hand, don't want it in my head ♪
♪ Searching for a win and a battle's on the way ♪
♪ Hustle make you high, high ♪
♪ Hustle make you low ♪
♪ Say I want, say I want ♪
♪ What I want, they'll never know ♪
♪ We ♪
♪ Steal the game ♪
♪ We are the fame ♪
♪ Only want the fame ♪
♪ All the same ♪
♪ We are all the same ♪
♪ We are the fame ♪
♪ We want the fame ♪
♪ All the same ♪
♪ We are all the same ♪
♪ We are the fame. ♪
(door opens)
FLACK: Hey, Mac, Hank's younger brother, Riley, just showed up.
No, he came alone.
He says his mother wrote Hank off years ago.
Seems like Riley might be all he has left.
We should definitely get something out of this.
All right.
There he is...
little brother.
Riley, you know I'm innocent. No matter what, you can't...
No!
Or maybe not.
What are you doing, Riley?!
I didn't kill Angie.
Hey! Step back!
You know I loved her.
Hey, you know me!
I'm still your brother!
"Consider this an agreement between brothers,
"that I, Riley Frazier,
"promise to not allow anyone or anything to distract me
from my goal of playing professional basketball."
Signed by you with your brother as witness.
We made that contract when I was seven.
Makes me sick to hear it now.
Was he on drugs?
We found coke in his system.
He promised he was clean this time.
You really think he killed Angie?
Looks that way.
My brother,
I grew up wanting to be him.
Okay, that guy in there,
was one of the best high school basketball players
to come out of Brooklyn.
So, what happened?
He tore his Achilles.
That meant rehab, drugs.
But no college wanted to recruit him.
He got depressed.
Was never the same.
Soon enough, it was less rehab, more drugs.
God bless Angie.
She stayed with him through thick and thin.
Addiction's a pain in the ass.
Can make someone a threat to anyone or anything in his way.
So, how is your sister?
That obvious?
I used to live in fear of this.
Getting a call after she did something stupid,
while she was all boozed up.
There was a time not too long ago
she very easily could've wound up in that chair.
You speak with her regularly?
Depends on how you define regularly.
DANVILLE: Hey, Sid.
I believe our killer gave us the finger.
When I opened the victim's body,
I discovered that the stab wound at the top of her spine
partially transected the left side
of her spinal cord
between the 3rd and 4th cervical vertebrae.
That would cause paralysis on the left side.
(panting)
(gasping, shrieks)
Which explains why most of the defensive wounds were on
the right side of her body.
But she had blood on her left index finger.
A finger she was incapable of using.
So Angela Kelly did not write Hank's name on that door.
Someone else did.
♪ ♪
(footsteps approach)
You said you had something for me?
Yes. A second piece of evidence
that was staged at our crime scene.
We know that when a stab wound is delivered with force
it will leave a hilt mark bruise on the skin, right?
However, according to Sid,
it was the stab wounds without hilt marks
that left the deepest wound impressions on our vic's body.
So the question remains, how does a stab delivered
with less force leave a deeper wound tract?
Right. So I bought the same brand of knives we found
at Angela Kelly's kitchen
and used the knife that was missing from her set.
TAYLOR: The hilt marks match.
The missing knife from Angela's kitchen
is our murder weapon. Yeah.
Doesn't explain the difference in the wound depth.
What I discovered
is that when the knife is pressed into soft tissue,
instead of being stabbed with force and retracted,
it may not leave a bruise on the skin,
but it does push the soft tissue out of the way.
TAYLOR: So, pressing into tissue creates a deeper wound tract.
That means the seven wounds without hilt marks on our victim
were pressed, not stabbed with force.
Exactly.
Someone stabbed our vic three times,
and then pressed another seven wounds into her body.
To increase the number
of wounds and make it seem like a crime of passion.
Someone took their time with this,
precisely thinking it through.
♪ ♪
TAYLOR: Hank Frazier's name on the door.
Angela Kelly's stab wounds.
Both staged at our crime scene.
We have to reevaluate everything.
I haven't finished analyzing all the spatter,
but I did find one stain particularly interesting.
Satellite spatter; it's blood in blood.
I analyzed it for DNA, and I got two profiles.
One was a match to our victim,
but the other one wasn't a match to our victim or Hank.
A foreign donor at the scene. Most likely our killer.
We need to figure out who that second blood drop belongs to.
Danny, help Lindsay with the blood analysis.
You got it.
Hawkes says the epithelials under our vic's nails
were a low-level sample, so he's reamplifying and
running it again.
In addition to that,
maybe there's a connection on paper.
I've been working on that torn document
from Angela's apartment.
Could be another piece of staged evidence,
but it might get us some prints.
Whoever did this probably knew
Angela's schedule and knew that she was living with Hank.
Could have had something to do with his drug problem, too, right?
They kill her
to get back at him.
Whatever the motive, Hank may still be connected to this.
(car horn blares, siren wailing)
NYPD, open up.
WOMAN: Just a second.
You've been knocking on my door
like that since what, the Academy?
You're not careful,
you're gonna scare my boyfriends away.
Exactly what a brother should do.
You cut your hair.
You did. It looks nice.
Thank you.
I could tell you that I just happened
to be in the neighborhood,
but honestly, since four of my last five calls
to your phone went straight to voicemail
and the fifth one told me your number was changed,
I don't feel like justifying myself.
Yeah? Well, what's the real reason for this visit?
Let me take a guess-- you caught a homicide.
Maybe a sibling thing.
I don't know, an addict?
Alcohol?
You got to thinking,
"You know who I haven't spoken to in a stretch?"
I'm fine, Don. I mean,
I'm little bit hungover
from that rave party I threw last night,
but, other than that...
You know, part of my 12 steps was getting you to smile.
I just need to know that you're okay.
I'm fine.
And I'll get you my new number.
I've been sober as a church mouse, Don.
That's why all I do
all day is stay inside
watching The Young and the Restless.
That's the worst part about working the day tour--
missing my stories.
Thanks.
What have you got for me, Adam?
I took a closer look at the fragment
that Sid pulled from our vic.
It turns out the reflective surface
is a photopolymer film.
Stuck it under the microscope,
and I noticed the edge of a 3-D image.
A hologram. Pretty cool.
Yeah. Check this out, though.
Even fragments of holograms
have the entire image.
Just needed to project it.
Thus, the laser show.
Which you appear to be very proud of.
I am.
I did a photo image search
on that particular hologram, and it turns out
to be a business logo.
Asantewaa Living.
Mm-hmm.
It's a holistic company in California.
They sell energy supplements,
vitamins, promote a healthy lifestyle.
Their logo was found on trace from our victim's body.
Not so healthy.
(siren blaring)
Hey, Mac, I finished re-amplifying
the epithelials from our vic's nails.
Got a hit in CODIS.
Nick Blount. Priors for assault, and more recently,
he graduated to being a street pharmacist.
Meth, coke, heroin.
Yeah, and that's not all.
His place of employment--
same place our vic Angela Kelly worked--
a barber shop in Brooklyn called Groove Cutz.
I'm taking my talent to South Beach, bitch!
What up?!
Really? When you leaving?
Oh.
I... I... I'm... I'm actually not-not going anywhere.
Unless I keep doing stupid stuff like this.
Um, but listen, it's all for a really good purpose, I swear.
I'm all ears. Okay, um,
I contacted the holistic company in California.
Turns out, they just teamed up
with an athletic apparel company, Wyandotte Sports.
They're making bracelets for athletes, okay?
And these holograms are supposed
to give you stamina and keep up your energy
during the game. They're super
exclusive and super expensive.
And super ridiculous.
If they're so exclusive, is there an I.D. factor
on these bracelets?
You mean, like a serial number
that might link us to the owner? Yeah.
(siren blaring)
♪ ♪
I see how it is.
You come in here, and you don't talk to the barbers and whatnot,
but you want to pick on the ex-con
that's sweeping up everybody's hair.
Makes it a little easier
when the ex-con leaves evidence at a murder scene.
How about you spare us the pity party and answer the question?
Why, what you got?
Epithelials under her nails or something?
Oh.
Five of my cell mates got put away off that stuff.
As for me, I got a perfect explanation.
You see, Angela-- she was the best stylist in this place.
A real artist. So, she hooked me up with a cut.
And after she got done cutting my hair, she massaged my scalp.
You think I'm playing?
(phone ringing) Ask anybody in here.
Hey, it's Lindsay. Go ahead.
Anna, what you got for me?
FLACK: Okay, so you got a scalp massage.
That doesn't exactly clear you, Mr. Blount.
How well do you know Hank Frazier?
You guys like BFFs?
Hey, hey, hey!
FLACK: Freeze! (woman gasps)
Back away! Drop that razor now!
Back away, or I'll slice her open!
(woman crying)
Think I'm playing?
No, but right now, I'm aiming at your head.
And I can put a pretty nice hole in your brain
before you have time to even think about hurting her.
You think I'm playing?
(woman panting)
(woman yelps)
That's what happens when you bring a knife to a gunfight.
(crowd chatter)
Yeah. Great. Thanks.
Patrol found a bloody kitchen knife in a Dumpster
outside Blount's apartment.
Chances are, that's our murder weapon.
So that just leaves two unanswered questions.
Why did Nick kill Angela, and why did he want
to make it look like Hank Frazier did it?
(grunts)
(excited crowd chatter)
(horn honking)
(siren blaring)
Just came from the hospital, Mac.
Nick Blount suffered a severe concussion.
He's got a knot on his head the size
of New Jersey; they had to induce a coma.
But he'll live, so he'll face his day in court.
Yes, and it won't be a good one.
Found his prints on the murder weapon.
Went to his apartment, found this cell phone,
and also a kit used for making key molds.
Probably used it
to make a copy of Angela's key, and that's why
there were no signs of forced entry at the crime scene.
That leaves Hank Frazier off the hook for now.
I've gone over everything that pertains to Nick Blount.
There's no indication that he had motive
to kill Angela Kelly, or a beef with Hank Frazier.
Well, I might be able to help with that.
The blood I found in the satellite spatter
at the crime scene-- it's not a match to Nick Blount.
There was another person with him.
(camera shutter clicking)
Ooh, this the torn up paper
from our vic's apartment?
Yeah. I was so hoping
it would give us a print, trace,
anything that would lead us
to our mystery third person, but no.
Ooh.
All of these
are love letters-- there was definitely
some strong feelings between them.
My first assumption was that the torn-up letter
was a casualty of Hank and Angela's fight.
But now that you know that some evidence was staged,
you have a different outlook.
Well, I just couldn't figure out why
someone would choose this particular letter
to tear to shreds. Listen to it:
"My Dearest Angie,
"I couldn't fall asleep last night just thinking about you.
"You've been better to me than I deserve.
"With my mother being herself,
"and Riley heading off to attend Kansas,
"it's like everybody's moving on without me.
"I've never understood why you don't do the same.
Hank."
Well, one thing that sticks out
is that Riley made a verbal commitment to Redtown State,
and this letter says that he was heading off to attend Kansas.
Well, maybe Riley lied to his brother about his college decision.
Something else I noticed was this is the only letter
where Hank's mother and Riley are mentioned together.
Well... whoever tore this up may have been trying
to send a message of their own.
(knocking on door)
What, no NYPD announcement?
I barely recognized the knock.
Listen, I don't have a lot of time.
I gotta get back to work.
But I want to talk about what's going on with you.
Excuse me?
I followed you earlier.
A temp agency?
Why didn't you just tell me you were looking for a job?
Don, you have got to stop following me, okay?
I am out of AA.
I am sober. I am a grown woman.
Really? You're giving me attitude
after you lied on your application?
What'd you do, walk in there and flash a badge
and they just hand it to you?
What was I supposed to say?
You're supposed to tell the truth, Sam.
Lying about your prior arrests and your substance abuse problem
is not the way to turn your life around.
Okay, I have tried doing it the right way.
You want to know what happens
when you try doing it the right way?
You get a bunch of "I am sorry, miss"es...
I get it. I know it's hard.
I just...
I feel like you have a second lease on life.
You have a chance to do whatever you want.
Says who? You and Dad?
You always knew what you were gonna do.
You Flack men-- you have NYPD in your blood.
But me? I was always the one--
Don't give me the "I was always a screw-up" crap, okay?
Not too long ago, you had ideas.
What about your writing?
I thought you wanted to be a journalist.
I understand where you're coming from with this,
but I made mistakes, Don.
I don't have the option of going that route anymore.
Those days are over.
Nobody wants to hire a girl with priors.
I don't want to see you give up on your dreams.
Look, no offense, but can this rah-rah pep talk!
You want to be honest...
half the reason why you're here
is because you care about me, and I do appreciate that.
But the other half is you feeling guilty
for not coming around more often.
Just save yourself the trouble.
Let yourself out.
(door shuts)
(car horns honking, siren wailing)
Hey.
I found it odd that a low-paid ex-con like Nick Blount
owned an expensive, exclusive sports wristband.
So I took a little closer look at the company--
Wyandotte Sports...
DANVILLE: Says here they have a merchandising deal
with Riley Frazier's ADL team?
Mm-hmm.
And the exact model bracelet
that Nick Blount was wearing
was made exclusively for Riley's team,
and only 20 people own them.
So how did Nick Blount get his hands on one?
Typically, the way that these merchandise deals work
is that a company donates some apparel to the person
that's in charge of the team.
So, in this case, that would be the coach.
Yep. Oh...
Coach Gavin, the legend.
It gets more interesting.
Riley Frazier committed to attending
Redtown State College, right?
According to the letter that his brother sent to Angela,
he previously committed to going to Kansas.
Kids change their college decisions all the time.
The timing of this is a little too suspicious.
I did some homework.
According to on-line sports sites,
Riley has always stated publicly
that his heart was set on Kansas,
'cause that was the favored choice of his brother.
Now he suddenly changes his mind,
after his brother's arrested.
Sounds like a tug of war over Riley's future,
between Hank and Coach Gavin.
And ADL coaches are often used as go-betweens.
Colleges and pro agents will often pay coaches like Gavin
to deliver top players.
Gavin stands to make millions
by hip-pocketing a superstar like Riley.
That's all the motive in the world
for Gavin to want Hank's influence out of the way.
Took a closer look at the phone we found at Nick Blount's apartment.
He made a call from that cell
the night of the murder.
I'll give you a hint who he called--
it wasn't Phil Jackson.
Coach Gavin was the third person in Angela's apartment.
But Hank had to know Gavin had motive to do this.
Why wouldn't he say anything?
There's only one reason that makes sense--
'cause he plans to do something about it.
(applause, shouting, shoes squeaking on court)
(blows whistle)
All right, boys!
Good job! Good job! Bring it in! Bring it in!
(indistinct conversations)
Good job. Thanks, Coach.
Coach. Looking good.
Not too bad, huh?
We gotta get Riley if you want to...
(lively, indistinct conversations)
Coach Gavin?
What? Raise your hands up on your head.
You're under arrest for the murder of Angela Kelly.
Let it go, Hank.
You want to be a part of your brother's life?
Stay out of jail and be smart and let us handle this.
OFFICER: Hands behind your back.
(handcuffs clacking)
All right, let's go.
Five city championships,
24 All-Americans,
seven NBA All-Stars...
three felonies.
You know, whatever you're accusing me of, I can assure you...
(wry laugh) Oh, this goes well beyond accusation.
We matched your DNA to a blood drop at our crime scene.
All due respect, Detective, I think you're full of crap.
No cuts on your hands, no abrasions.
I'm guessing it was a bloody nose.
You hired Nick because he worked with Angela.
He had access to her apartment keys and could make copies.
Still think I'm full of crap?
How much did you pay Nick?
Did you pay him with cash or with sports merchandise?
Whatever the price,
it won't be enough to save you.
As soon as Nick is conscious and able,
he'll tell us everything we need to know.
Nick.
Look, I simply paid him to plant drugs
in Hank's gym bag.
The plan was
to make a call, violate his parole.
That's it.
Nick...
What are you doing here?
(screaming)
She wasn't supposed to be home.
He wasn't supposed to kill her.
But you received a phone call from him.
I had no idea what had happened until I saw for myself.
You dumb-ass!
Why did you do this? Me? You're the lookout, okay?
How was I supposed to know she was just going to walk in?
Yo, if you don't get off me...
Nick is a murderer,
but you're the one who made things go from bad to worse.
You decided to fix things,
by finishing what you went there to do.
We are screwed,
both of us,
unless you help with this.
So you staged that scene to pin it all on Hank.
I just wanted Hank out of the way.
He screwed up his own life.
I didn't want him screwing up Riley's, too.
No, that's not it.
Come on, it wasn't Riley's life
you care about, it's his earning potential.
People like you are gatekeepers.
College decisions are important for players,
but big business for coaches
who can get players to sign with certain schools.
How much is Redtown State paying you?
How much do you stand to make after Riley leaves college
if you can steer him to the right professional agent?
The right endorsement opportunities?
Kids like Riley-- they're not just basketball players,
they're future millionaires.
Meal tickets for leeches like you.
I spent my life coaching kids.
Teaching them the game.
You know how many fall by the wayside?
You know how many pan out, become stars?
Do you know how many move one and forget about me?
Finding Riley was,
for once,
like winning the lottery.
Except in this case, you lose.
(handcuffs clicking)
Detective Taylor.
Never got a chance to thank you for everything you've done.
No need.
But can I offer some advice?
Okay.
Hank's trying.
You gotta know that.
You can see it in his face that he hates disappointing you.
Just imagine if basketball was taken away from you.
With Angela's death, he could easily turn back to bad influences right now.
Don't give up on him.
Hey.
Just so you know, I... I start rehab tomorrow.
Detective Taylor said that he's going to be checking in on me.
There's something about that guy makes me think he's serious.
Okay. Well, go ahead, keep up the silent treatment.
You're just afraid that if we play, you'll get embarrassed.
People always said I was the better brother.
Better-looking, better at basketball,
better-looking...
Now, if I remember correctly, last time we played,
I won.
The last time we played?
What's the overall record?
I got like, what, 953 wins
to... I'm sorry, how many do you have again?
♪ Feedback, feedback, feedback, feedback, feedback, feedback ♪
Check ball.
♪ I don't need no introduction, you know me ♪
♪ I don't need to be someone I'm not, you know me ♪
♪ I ain't talkin' about these people around me that's phony ♪
♪ I'm talkin' about when there was just you and me only ♪
♪ I guess it all worked out, made us who we are ♪
♪ Chicks think it looks cool, I'll take the scars ♪
♪ We do whatever today, we make it to tomorrow ♪
♪ Grandmamma taught me well, shake it off ♪
♪ Shake it off, shake it off, let 'em talk. ♪
(knocking)
I got you something.
I don't take things from strangers.
Please take it.
Look, I appreciate the gift...
It's not a gift.
It's a job.
You got me a job with the NYPD?
Well, slow down. I don't want you in my precinct
any more than you want me in your hair.
It's with the Executive Office
of Media Relations for the NYPD.
They need people with journalism backgrounds.
They had an opening, I called in a favor.
Why are you doing this for me?
This is what siblings do.
They look out-- good times and bad.
Look, I... I don't know, I mean, what if I screw up?
Won't that reflect bad on you?
Just take the job.
Sometimes nepotism is a good thing.
It's not a handout.
Just an opportunity for you to get back on track
with some of those dreams of yours.
Become the next Lesley Stahl like you always talked about.
That would make you Andy Rooney.
I'll take it.
And if you happen to do an exposé
on the most interesting people in the world...
your brother's not above doing interviews.
Yeah.
Got a minute?
Yep.
Captioning sponsored by CBS
and CSI NY PRODUCTIONS