♪ ♪
That there's rent, drinking money,
maybe even a down payment on a truck.
♪ ♪
Now, that's a catch.
That's trouble, Dale.
You know better than to mess with Amy.
Hey, Macey...
Don't "Hey, Macey" me.
You the one sleeping with her? What? No.
She ain't even my type. Ain't that right, Jesse?
Oh, I'll pop your head off
just like one of them shrimp. Do you hear me?
What do you got to say for yourself,
you sorry son of a bitch, huh?!
Leg.
Ooh.
♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪
♪ Bang, bang, bang, bang ♪
♪ Boom, boom, boom, boom ♪
♪ How, how, how, how ♪
♪ Hey, hey ♪
♪ You gotta come on. ♪
Haven't gotten used to the Crescent City nightlife, Brody?
It's my living situation.
Short-term lease in a double in Broadmoor.
Every night the same thing: wasted college students
and neighborhood kids lighting firecrackers.
You know those aren't firecrackers.
I was trying to be optimistic.
Oh, someone party hard last night?
Noisy neighbors.
Oh, I'm just hazing her.
I know Brody doesn't go out.
I go out. I mean, maybe not
to the places where fine dining meets hurricanes,
but I do go out.
Yeah, sure, you do, Brody.
All right, Christopher, what we got?
Boot is current Navy issue, so we're operating
on the assumption the leg is as well.
Dwayne. Christopher. Morning.
Agent Brody, you look tired.
I hope it was worth it.
Loud kids. Gunshots. Not worth it.
Hey, don't sweat it, Brody-- from now on,
I'm gonna act as your personal rental agent.
Just like I did with my sister.
Find you a place you're gonna love.
Where we at with I.D.'ing the...
catch of the day, Loretta?
DNA'll take time. Unfortunately,
there's no identifying characteristics other than...
(shutter clicking)
...the victim's most likely African-American.
Based on the decomp, I'd say
the leg's been in the water at least a week.
Gator attack?
Muscle cut's too clean.
Boating accident?
Angry shark?
Rabid squid?
Mutant starfish from hell?
(laughs)
Just trying to keep it light.
(chuckles) Based on the marks on the bones,
I'd say it's inconsistent with a propeller
or a mutant starfish, but...
I think it's a single blade.
Have to autopsy to make sure.
All right, Christopher,
take our recent Midwestern transplant
and introduce her to the Coast Guard,
get them to help in the search.
Let's find the rest of him.
You got it, King.
♪ ♪
Captain Lee. Pride.
(chuckles) Just couldn't stay away from my gumbo, could you?
Oh, how I wish I were here for a little culinary inspiration. (laughs)
Hope you don't mind-- your guard let me in.
No problem.
Look, I don't know how to say this,
but the kid you mentored,
Petty Officer 2nd Class Calvin Parks,
he's unauthorized absence.
You sure?
His OIC hasn't heard from him for a couple of days.
I was hoping he contacted you. Couple of days?
He told me himself just how much you helped him out
by steering him towards the Navy.
Not many people would help a boy
escape a past like his.
Yeah, well, Calvin would have found his own way.
I just gave him a little push.
Yeah, well, you should be proud of him.
That kid's been a squared-away sailor since day one.
He probably just found some young lady to distract him.
(brief chuckle)
But if that's the case,
he will be facing disciplinary action.
Give me a call
if you hear from him, will you?
Yeah. I will.
Good to see you, Pride.
Loretta. I have a strange request.
Not as strange as a boot with a leg on my autopsy table.
Could you use the size of a victim's foot
as a basis for a general description?
Hey, Pride.
Or should I say "Dwayne"?
I thought it might be more appropriate for me
to start calling you Dwayne, what with us
consulting for NCIS all these years.
After all, the use of first names is a sign of familiarity,
and we're a far cry from when the surname was an indication
of a man's trade, so... Sebastian.
I'll stick with Pride, for now.
Yeah. Uh, anyway, I started a computer simulation
to estimate height, weight and age of the deceased
in case the body was never found.
Then let me ask you...
could it be a...
23-year-old African-American?
Six, three; maybe 220 or...
225 pounds?
It's possible, even likely.
I'll send you a name and a photo.
♪ ♪
(sighs)
(people whooping, whistling) Yeah, baby.
Let's take
a quick five, all right?
(laughs): Dwayne! My man!
Papa Parks.
You sounded good. You want to sit in next set?
Have you... have you heard from Calvin lately?
Uh, it's been at least a couple weeks.
He'd come over for supper. Why?
You know I think the world of Calvin.
He's like my blood, the son I never had. Dwayne...
just tell me.
Something...
might have happened to Calvin, something bad.
But you're not sure? Mm-mm.
I'm not sure.
MAN: Papa, we're up again.
Only two things I ever loved in this life:
Calvin and jazz.
Gonna hold on tight
to one...
and pray I haven't lost the other.
MAN: All right, Papa!
(applause, shouting)
♪ ♪
(cell phone beeping)
♪ ♪
(door sliding open)
LASALLE: Yo, Pride, you here?
Kitchen.
BRODY: Wow! Smells good!
Morning, King.
What time you get in?
Well, that assumes I left.
You know I've been staying upstairs.
Eggs Creole...
andouille sausage and remoulade sauce.
Nice.
Grab plates, and tell me where we are
with the Calvin Parks investigation.
So, last night we went down and searched his rack.
Nothing out of the ordinary,
but we did recover a personal laptop.
Password-protected? Which we've sent out
to get a work-around. Meantime, we thought
we'd canvass his day-to-day contacts.
He was assigned to the pier-side Fleet Logistics Center.
LASALLE: He worked the wharfs, loading inventory,
food and equip.
Okay, you two take the wharfs.
I'll go see
Doc Wade about forensics.
(whispers): Let me talk to him for a second. Yep.
Just gonna go...
grab my... phone.
Pride, I can take the morgue, if you like.
I thought since... you were personally involved,
you might want to take a pass on this one.
Got a decade-old friendship with Papa.
You think I'm just gonna sit on my hands?
And if the things we uncover
are things you and he don't want to hear?
We face what we got to face.
Take Brody,
learn things.
What the hell you waiting for?
Well, you did offer breakfast.
We'll take it to go.
BRODY: You're the longshoremen \h supervisor-- and that's...
a civilian position? Contractor, yeah.
Port is zoned mixed-use, so... we have various clients,
which include the Navy.
And you oversaw Petty Officer Parks? Cal.
Yeah. Good kid.
Great kid. On time.
Polite. Hard-working.
Something more?
I don't want to speak ill, you know?
But... maybe old habits die hard.
Hey!
What in the kingdom of God
are you two doing? Huh?
Get over to Governor Nicholls Street Wharf,
off-load those pallets.
Got to keep an eye on the chuckleheads.
You said, uh, something about "old habits." Yeah, just,
uh... just heard talk from guys on Calvin's shift.
They said that they saw him leave in a lowrider
with some local bangers.
Bangers are gang members.
My background is in interrogation,
out of Detroit.
I know the lingo. Thanks.
Anyone get a look at any of these...
bangers?
Like I said,
I wasn't there to see this,
but... the guys said
that, uh, they didn't look too friendly.
WADE: Body was discovered
wrapped in plastic in a shallow grave
near Highway 11.
New Orleans East.
Highway 11 is near the Irish Bayou.
That channels into Lake Pontchartrain.
The leg was scooped up in the Gulf.
How does that make sense?
I don't even know what the weapon is yet,
but the severing is antemortem, which means
it was disassociated while he was still alive.
So, they kill him near a body of water that flows to the Gulf.
The-the leg gets dumped there, left behind,
and the body is wrapped, moved and buried?
We have significant contusions
on the knuckles of both hands.
So, a fight?
Well, it's defense wounds.
And although the outcome was grievous,
Calvin got some good licks in.
The basic theory.
Sebastian did the simulation.
The killer came upon Calvin, there was an altercation.
The killer had a large, sharp object.
Think axe.
There was the attack that severed the limb, and...
Calvin bled out.
Dwayne... Just keep talking, Loretta. Please.
Okay.
We found this caught up in the clothing.
It's a second bicuspid,
probably on the right side.
It's definitely not Calvin's,
'cause he's still sporting a full set.
So, whoever killed him is missing a tooth.
Pull DNA?
Still running it through the local criminal database.
There's something else I think you should see.
That's Delta Crew, right?
Cal grew up in the Lower Ninth.
Got pulled into the gangs by the time he was 12.
Well, based on that irritation, that tat's new.
Fresh ink?
Very.
LASALLE: I saw it when I was in vice.
Gangs get their former members to recommit.
Then they kill 'em.
It's an effective way to show the kids
that getting out is not an option.
It's called "dead hazing."
It's called "sadistic."
What if the Delta Crew didn't do it themselves?
Well, it'd be the 1-1-3s.
Delta Crew and 1-1-3 have been at war for years.
That's New Orleans's answer to the Bloods and Crips.
I'm sorry. The Bloods and Crips?
Who-who are they exactly?
Delta Crew and 1-1-3 territories are right next to each other.
South Galvez Street's the border.
Which gang do you know best?
Delta Crew. All right.
Take them. I'll introduce Brody to the charms of the 1-1-3s.
Let's go.
BRODY: All right, potential \h new apartments.
2725 Prytania?
That's Uptown.
How do you feel about $600 strollers
and organic everything?
Okay, 3115 Royal.
The Bywater.
Neck beards, thick-rimmed glasses, fixed-gear bikes.
It's a big choice here, Brody.
Where you live says everything.
Lasalle lives in the French Quarter
'cause he loves being in the middle of it all.
My wife and I-- we're in the Lower Garden,
'cause it's walking distance
from some of the best chefs in America.
Speak.
Just looks like your wife's in the Lower Garden.
You're in the office.
All I'm saying--
where you lay your head in this city defines you.
Okay, so where do I go
if I want to be defined by a full night's sleep?
Well, it's quiet. (laughs)
Calvin? (scoffs)
I ain't seen that joker since he went to go play GI Joe.
Well, GI Joe is the Army.
All the same to me. So, you can't
explain how we found him with a fresh Delta Crew tat?
Nah.
You got any theories on who did Calvin?
Slow down, my man. I'm just saying.
A dead Delta-- current or former--
only means one thing, right?
1-1-3s.
Think it's time for you to go.
Think I'll sit here and finish my cold drink, thank you.
Leave when I get ready.
Hey, Naomi.
Give me a diet orange.
That's what I'm here for, baby.
(indistinct chatter, barking, sirens)
Man, I ain't never heard of no Calvin.
Didn't ask you if you heard of him.
Asked why he's dead.
You got some pretty, pretty eyes.
I've also got a black belt in Aikido.
You know, this wouldn't be the first time
Delta Crew done killed one of their own, right?
How are your teeth there, Swag?
My teeth? Yeah.
Open up. Give me an "ah."
Ah...
All original.
No cavities.
I even floss twice a day.
(engine revving, tires squealing)
Cover!
Get down! Everybody get down!
(engine revving, tires squealing)
Get down.
(bullets ricocheting)
(tires squealing)
MAN (on TV): We're reporting from the West Bank
where violence erupted on the streets
of New Orleans last night, the latest chapter
in an ongoing war
between two of the area's most notorious gangs...
Delta Crew blame 1-1-3, and 1-1-3 put it on Delta Crew.
Feels like a setup.
Just can't tell from which side.
Ah, morning, Dwayne.
Councilman.
Got to remember to lock the door.
Might need a... Warm-up.
I was thinking the same.
Mm. So, how's the family, Dwayne?
Linda well?
What can I do for you, Hamilton?
What, you need to ask?
I mean, there's a gang war going on out there,
and I hear that your people are the ones
who've been stirring up the pot.
We're conducting an investigation.
Well, I'm organizing an emergency anti-gang task force.
FBI, NOPD, everybody's on board.
And I was... well, I was hoping
that NCIS might, uh... want to join up, too.
We'll help any way we can. Well, good.
Give me some names.
Let my people start rounding up suspects.
Look, you...
you know how I feel about this community.
No one has less love for the gangs, but we haven't
determined that they had a hand in Calvin Parks' murder.
Well, how long is it gonna be before you determine something?
'Cause people want their streets cleaned up,
and sometimes, all that matters is appearances.
Silly me, I thought what mattered was justice.
(laughing): Okay.
You have a blessed day.
Don't ever go into politics, Christopher.
All of a sudden, your definition of good and evil becomes defined
by how many votes it gets you.
I trust your instincts, but...
"We hadn't determined the gangs are involved yet"?
Something doesn't make sense.
If the 1-1-3s did it, they'd be expecting
the Delta Crew to retaliate, and they weren't.
If the Delta Crew did it...
then why the drive-by?
And I... I just can't believe
Calvin went back into that world.
You can't, or you don't want to?
How about a little of both?
Which one's he in?
Top right.
Want me to open it up for you?
You think he'll reanimate
and explain what the hell he was up to?
No.
Then what's the point?
How'd you meet Calvin? Through Papa?
No. No, I...
I met Calvin when he was trying to rob my house.
Linda and I came home.
Side window was broken, there's this skinny kid
in the parlor making off with my camera.
I grabbed his punk ass,
threw him against the wall, and in the time it took
to turn him...
over to someone...
I saw something in him.
And, you know, it just...
it kills me to think that he went back into that world.
Getting out is hard, isn't it?
But he was trying to change.
We're attached to what we know.
Yeah.
I appreciate your counsel, Loretta.
And I yours, Dwayne.
I'll leave you alone with him.
(door opens)
(footsteps approaching)
You wanted to see me?
Yeah, tech got around the password.
There's not much here,
but basic social media sites fill his browser history.
E-mails sent to a girl in Shreveport.
Nothing that really leads to or away from gang involvement.
Oh, so nothing helpful.
Well, not nothing.
He sent an e-mail to himself
from his NMCI account to his personal account.
No subject. But inside, there's a bunch of numbers.
Look. Big numbers.
8749 and 9449. Some smaller.
22.3 and 12.6.
The big numbers keep repeating.
So, he was working the wharfs.
These aren't times.
Not ship numbers or coordinates.
3493.
I know that number.
What in the Sam Hill does that mean?
You know how I do crosswords.
In your head? I see something, and it sticks.
3493. I am telling you, that is a number I've seen.
You present yourself all buttoned up,
but you are an odd bird, Brody.
Thank you for coming, dear.
I love that you can do that.
Just, eyes in the back of your head.
Or your reflection in the back of my camera.
Thunderstorm?
Probably what?
Mature stage multicell cluster.
It's just rain. I like rain.
Who doesn't?
Well, cats don't.
And snakes don't.
And my sister Antonia, actually,
she was a bit ombrophobic, which I never really...
Sebastian, what could make a tattoo disappear?
I've taken these photos,
one every three hours.
See how in each shot
the tattoo seems to be getting lighter.
Typical putrefaction just doesn't account for this.
Mind if I take a sample? Mm-hmm.
I think I remember a similar case out of Washington,
where they used the tattoo to determine
time of death.
And Dr. Mallard was the coroner.
Lovely excuse to catch up.
(phone ringing)
Pride here.
(exhales)
Yeah, I'm on my way.
(footsteps approaching)
Walter called.
Said you weren't gonna play.
First time in 15 years, huh?
I took it apart to clean it like I always do,
but when it came time to put it back together,
I just... couldn't.
I'm like that.
In pieces.
You find whoever killed Calvin?
Not yet. But I will.
I know that.
And I also know
that you will feel better,
just a little,
if you play.
I just keep thinking...
if he went back with them gangs...
that's my fault.
If I'd just done something
or didn't do something
or-or could've done something...
I can't play, Dwayne.
Doesn't feel like I ever will.
Not without knowing what happened.
Go grab your coat and hat.
We'll take a walk. We'll...
we'll talk.
Huh?
I got nothing to say, old friend.
(line ringing)
YOUNG WOMAN: Hey, Daddy. Hey, baby.
Hey, uh, I'm in class. Is everything all right?
It is.
Now that I've heard your voice.
(sighs) Sorry. Another late night.
Dogs barking.
Why don't you let me help you find a place?
(laughs)
I appreciate the offer. I do.
Nothing personal. I just, um...
I prefer that my work and personal lives be kept separate.
(chuckles)
That's not the way it works around here.
We're all one big family.
Sooner you accept that, the easier it's gonna be.
In the meantime, my blood sugar's getting low.
Let's order dessert.
Mmm, okay. Let's see. Where's this menu at here?
Here we go.
Oh, I recommend the bread pudding.
Key lime pie.
Can't go wrong.
Pineapple?
I don't think they have any.
3493.
Pineapple.
Government uses National Stock Numbers which contain subgroups
that identify Federal Supply Groups, Federal Supply Classes,
NATO country codes and National Item Identification Numbers,
or NIINs.
Slow down. 3493 is the NIIN
for pineapple, which I know
because my ex-fiancé had a weird fruit salad fetish.
You have an ex-fiancé?
So, Calvin worked the wharfs, right?
3493 is a number he wrote however many times.
Pallets of pineapples.
And if the big numbers were products,
then the smaller numbers must have been...
Were weights. All right, let's get back to the numbers
and figure out what the other shipments were.
Okay, fine, but can we still have some bread pudding?
Absolutely.
DUCKY: Do you remember the last time
I was in New Orleans, Loretta?
December the 25th, 2004. Right.
Which happened to be the only snowfall day in New Orleans
since 1989.
Well, if you were the cause of the snow,
you're not welcome back.
Good to see you, Agent Pride.
I think the good doctor and I just figured out
why Calvin's tattoo was coming off.
Yes, I had a case
nearly four years ago
where the tattoo was applied
only hours prior to the victim's death.
The result: The micropunctures didn't have time to heal
because the blood couldn't congeal.
We think that's what's going on with Calvin.
All right. So...
We tried to use Ducky's case as a baseline to approximate
when Calvin received the tattoo,
and the difference was approximately three hours.
He got the tattoo three hours before he died?
No.
In this case,
the tattoo was applied after death.
The ink won't hold because there's no blood flow at all.
So Calvin wasn't back with the Delta Crew.
Killer put the tat on.
Posthumously.
To make this look like part of a gang killing.
That's good work.
BRODY: That'd be a four.
LASALLE: Okay, so subtract that and give me the new number.
Hey!
Oh, he's up. (chuckles)
You two been up all night? BRODY: It's not like I get
any sleep at my place anyway.
We made a point of trying to keep it down for you.
BRODY: You snore.
Loud.
No, I don't.
(chuckles) Can you take a look at this?
So, working off the theory
that the gang angle isn't real, we are convinced
that the murder had to do with Calvin working at the wharf.
Those big numbers in Calvin's computer,
they're all NIIN for different items loaded at the port.
3493, pineapple.
8748, bananas. 9449, coffee.
All coming in on the same boat, which originated
in Guatemala. So, in Guatemala,
the pallets are weighed, right?
Then the boat sails to New Orleans,
where all the cargo is transferred to Navy ships.
But before it's put aboard,
it's weighed again. The smaller numbers in Calvin's e-mails,
those are the difference between the Guatemala
and New Orleans weights. The pallets ended up
being lighter by the time the Navy got a hold of them?
Smuggling.
Based on the weight differentials,
we're thinking, uh, guns or drugs.
So the question is,
was Calvin murdered because he found out about it
or because he was in on it?
In on it?
BRODY: Password on his computer,
e-mails in code.
(exhales)
(phone rings)
Lasalle here. Turn that up.
Sebastian, what do you got?
I'm standing outside the offices of Councilman Hamilton
of District C here in New Orleans.
He'll be hosting a press conference today
to talk about a recent rash of gang violence
that's hit the city.
(groans) All in all, Councilman Hamilton
is positioning himself as a law-and-order candidate
ahead of this year's mayoral election.
Okay, turn it off.
LASALLE: Sebastian wants
to show us something.
It's about the tattoo ink.
All right, do it.
I'll deal with him.
I'd appreciate if you'd stop using my murder investigation
as an excuse to grandstand. (chuckles)
All right, he-here's what I don't get, okay?
All right, you are beloved from Bourbon Street to the swamps
'cause you go out of your way to be of assistance
to this whole city, including...
all of my counterparts on the council.
And yet you and I still can't get along.
Well, maybe they're just nicer than you. (chuckles)
You want a task force to roll up crime? I'm all for it.
Let's right now get out there and go arrest people.
I only have two conditions:
We arrest them for things they've actually done,
and we leave the cameras behind.
Uh, what do you care, Pride?
It was just a gangbanger who got chopped up by another one.
He had a name.
Calvin Parks.
You call him a gangbanger again,
and our getting along problem is gonna get a whole lot worse.
SEBASTIAN: Did you know the FDA
doesn't regulate tattoo ink?
It's a weird quirk.
They regulate makeup that's applied on top of the skin,
but since the ink goes under the skin, it's not covered.
Meaning? Manufacturers aren't
required to report what heavy metals
they use for pigment bases.
And... there's no standard mix for ink.
Some inks contain cadmium, others use iron and copper.
So the end product that they produce, it's kind of like...
Is like a fingerprint.
More like DNA,
but you're cooking with gas, Agent Brody.
Anyway, I narrowed down the list of suppliers to seven.
Then I tested their inks against Calvin's tissue sample,
and there is only one
that uses that exact barium-
titanium blend. It is on Magazine.
And I will gladly share this with you under one condition.
There's a condition?
Take me with you. I got to get out of the lab
and just see something that's alive.
(buzzing)
Got to wonder what future civilizations are gonna think
about our dabbling in the ancient arts of ink.
They'll say drinking and tatting don't mix.
That's how I ended up with Big Al on my derriere.
Roll Tide. SEBASTIAN: You know, I thought about getting
the noble gas column from the periodic table, right...
That or something from Lord of the Rings.
Hmm.
Brody?
It's private.
The subject matter? Or the location?
Don't intimate about my intimacies, please. Thank you.
I'm thinking... a broken heart.
Sexy girl on a mud flap, and...
something to do with Lord of the Rings.
(laughs)
NCIS.
Recognize this?
You're insulting me. That's not my work.
What about this guy?
When you last saw him, he was dead.
Whoa, wait, I don't know anything about a dead sailor.
BRODY: You sure about that? Yeah.
Hey, what's this? Hey, hey, hey, hey.
What are you doing? What are you doing? Oh, sorry about that.
Hey, what are you doing? Hey, don't worry about it.
Sebastian, do your thing.
Got a question for you.
Had any dental work lately?
What? Root canal?
Cavities? Bridge work?
BRODY: Extractions?
Barium and titanium. It's his ink.
Your skill set is gonna come in handy trading tats
for prison hooch in Angola.
All right, look. A guy offered me $500 for a needle and a vial.
What guy? Cash doesn't come with a name.
Come on, look at me. Look at my teeth.
Look at my tongue, look whatever you need.
We'll need you to provide a description of the man
to our sketch artist.
Sketch artist? Please.
I went to the Rhode Island School of Design.
PRIDE: Ha. Rhode Island School of Design. Artists.
Bruce has definitely seen worse.
He can get an I.D. with one eye and a pimple.
Ain't that right, Bruce?
So, you've nicknamed the facial recognition system?
You bet. Is that a problem?
(chuckling): You're weird. I-I was told
that there's some body art I should ask you about.
This is why I prefer to keep my work
and personal lives separate.
Yes. Harold Werner.
Chucklehead from the wharfs?
I thought he scampered off in a hurry.
Get an address.
(knocking) PRIDE: Harold Werner.
NCIS. Open up.
(silently mouthing)
Clear. Clear.
Clear.
We found him.
Walk me through this. We know Harold was in on it,
'cause he's the one who bought the ink.
And we know he didn't kill himself.
Stuffed in a closet pretty much confirms that.
What's he got going on in his mouth?
Full set. 32 and counting.
So, Harold gets done in his own trailer.
Not likely he was snuck up on in there.
The toothless accomplice.
Where we gonna find him?
Same place Calvin did.
Harold? I suppose that does make some sense.
'Cause for years he's been short on money. Last few months
he started living it up.
We're wondering if you could give us a list of people
he was working closely with, who might have also had access
to shipments intended for the Navy.
Of course.
Anything to help. It's all in the office.
Can I say something?
Awfully quick to accept Harold as a smuggler?
And if I'd lost a tooth...
I'd use ice to dull the pain.
I'd say he starts running in three,
two, one.
ALL: I got this.
BRODY: NCIS! Stop!
Hands, hands!
Let me see your hands!
(grunts)
(grunting) Come here.
Now, will you look at that? Look at that.
Son, you need a dentist like I need to move back home.
(grunting)
Stop resisting.
So, inside the office we found a key
and the key led us to the wharf shack.
The mother lode.
Heroin.
It's being sent to the lab to confirm,
but it'd answer what was being smuggled.
Murder weapon?
(exhales) Again,
off to the lab.
And we're off to interrogation.
Warm today.
Air-conditioning feels good, doesn't it?
(chuckles) All I need now is a beignet
and some lemonade, and I'd be in heaven.
(short chuckle)
Aspirin help your toothache?
My apologies if I made it worse.
So, Petty Officer Calvin Parks
discovered you were smuggling heroin.
You had him killed him to make sure he didn't report
what he knew up his chain of command.
Gang tattoo was...
a clever way to throw us off.
What's bothering me
is your employment file.
Says you've only been in New Orleans for two years.
You didn't know he had a past with the gangs, did you?
No.
So, who told you to put
the tattoo on Calvin's arm?
Truth will set you free.
(scoffs)
What the hell is she doing?
Giving you a new tattoo. Letting the inmates
in the pen know you're the target they're looking for.
You put that tat on Calvin,
caused that little shooting spree.
Like to think the Delta Crew
and the 1-1-3s would like a little piece of you.
If I say what I know, gangs are the least of my worries.
Call me when he's processed.
You're going to prison for murdering
a United States Navy sailor.
Enjoy the party, my friend.
Afternoon, Hamilton.
Oh, afternoon, Dwayne. Say, uh,
I hear congratulations are in order. You got your man. Good.
Here's what I'm chewing on:
Who's got the port in his district?
Who'd get a taste from
getting customs to look the other way on a smuggling ring?
Who'd incite a gang war
to justify a task force?
And who would have known enough
about Calvin's youthful indiscretions
to have suggested a tattoo?
That's quite a theory, Dwayne.
You got any proof to back that up?
Not yet.
But you know I will.
See you around my city.
Your city?
Don't you ever forget it.
(whistling "When the Saints Go Marching In")
(music playing, indistinct conversations)
BRODY: First round is on me.
What are we celebrating?
Someone has a new apartment. (soft laugh)
Adorable little guest house owned by a friend of Lasalle's.
It's got a garden,
rent's pretty cheap, and, uh,
it's on the Mardi Gras route.
Which defines you as...
Thrilled to be here. (phone rings)
Movers. Excuse me. Hello?
Guest house with a garden on the Mardi Gras route?
When are you gonna tell Brody who Lasalle's friend is?
When I have to raise the rent.
You know, my last two tenants were a pain in my ass, so
it'll be nice to rent it to family. Yeah.
Excuse me a moment.
Sure thing, Dwayne.
Thank you, Dwayne.
Think nothing of it.
Would've killed me knowing he'd wanted back in with them gangs.
Oh, he wanted to join a gang. Mine.
Calvin was working a case. And he was good.
Took a lot of thinking to figure out what was going on.
And if he was mine--
in many ways, he was--
I'd be awfully proud.
You, uh...
want to sit in on the first song?
Be my honor.
All right. "Go to the Mardi Gras."
B-flat.
♪ ♪ (whoops) Go, Pride!
LASALLE: King can play, can't he?
I can't believe him.
Captioning sponsored by\h CBS
Captioned by Media Access Group at WGBH\h access.wgbh.org ngs.