Believe me when I tell you
I'm making it a personal crusade to put you behind bars.
If you think you can get away with this,
you don't know me at all.
I've already assigned a new prosecutor.
Male.
We're re-filing charges against you.
It'll be the case that ends your career.
You barged into my office so you could threaten me?
Well, it's not a threat.
It's a fact.
You just told me I have nothing to lose.
Naturally, I'll use every tactic I know
to stay a free man as long as I can.
Months of news stories
about the sex scandal going on right under your nose,
and you couldn't even smell it.
Your top attorney, Alan, your protegee,
sexually involved with the defendant?
How did you let this happen?
Oh.
Would you... Do you want me to zoom in?
Mm, that's not really Melissa's best angle.
Look!
The two of you...
are a disgrace to the profession.
You'll be begging me to plead to a no-time misdemeanor
just to take yourself out of the news.
I'll take my chances.
And then, you'll lose in court.
Because Cassie was driving the car.
The number-one lie from DUI attorneys...
My client wasn't driving.
I'm surprised you waited this long to try it out.
This is a no-win case for you, Alan.
You re-file against me,
I will testify that Cassie was driving the car.
You file against her,
she'll testify that I was driving the car.
It's a classic he-said, she-said situation.
Oh.
Shame on you...
for so much.
Well...
Desperate times, desperate measures.
No jury will convict me, Alan. And you know it.
We'll see.
I can't save you from yourself.
Melissa.
My office, please.
Tell me you're not reconsidering.
There's a lack of physical evidence in the case.
Except, of course, for your own involvement.
In a public restroom?
With Siletti?
I should have disclosed to you, but I saw a winnable case.
No, you saw a case
that would fast-track your career by five years.
And protect yours.
You wanted him out of the way, Alan.
So re-file against him and convict him as charged.
We both know he's guilty.
And he's going to skate because of you, Melissa.
That's on you.
If you haven't already started cleaning out your office,
you should.
- You're firing me. - No.
You're resigning.
I'll issue a statement on your behalf at the end of the day.
There are extra boxes in the file room.
You know...
for a pretty woman,
you're not very photogenic,
especially in profile.
Synced & corrected by -robtor- www.addic7ed.com
- What's this guy's name? - Uh, Hal Woodward.
He is the barber that led Billy James
to the car that he got murdered in.
His grandson was Billy's lawyer.
- Right. - He's a family friend,
good guy, old-school. He's the one who called us.
Billy's grandma obviously wasn't gonna come in here by herself,
- so... - He wouldn't tell you why?
Unh-unh. Just that he had to bring us something.
Oh, something, anything, is better than nothing
at this point.
I hate smart criminals.
- They make us work too hard. - Yeah.
Luckily, there are so few of them.
Well, they're late.
They're here.
Thank you.
This, um...
This came in the mail.
It's Billy's wallet.
Who sent this to you?
Good Samaritan.
Somebody must have found it, dropped it in a mailbox.
The post office delivered to the address on Billy's license.
There's still a few good people left in the world.
There's a key inside
that Rainelle don't know what it's for.
But I said to her, something important,
for Billy to carry it around.
I said we need to bring in the whole wallet, just like it came.
- Mm-hmm. - I-I took one thing, though.
I found a tatty old photo of him and Normandy together.
So I-I kept that for myself.
My two boys.
My two dead boys.
We'll get the wallet back to you as soon as we can, Ms. James.
Thank you for bringing it in.
Find out who killed my grandson, you hear?
Make sure you do that.
Yes, ma'am.
Thank you.
Okay.
Mr. Billy James.
One driver's license.
No credit cards or ATM.
No cash.
- To make it look like a robbery. - Right.
Where the hell's this key they were talking about?
Uh...
Here we go.
It's a safe deposit box key.
Mm-hmm.
All right, can you find out where Billy did his banking?
Ask me something hard, why don't you?
So is that a yes?
I still have all his banking records
from when he was on the run.
It won't tell us which branch he used, but let's see.
Here we go. The bank is First National Pacific.
How many branches are in the Bay Area?
Mm, 25.
I can at least tell you where he opened his account.
All right, thanks, Keef. You're the best.
I try.
Inspectors!
Excuse the wait. How can I help?
Uh...
Sorry!
Long night with the boyfriend. Don't ask.
Right. Uh, Miss Gardner,
uh, we're looking to open a safe deposit box,
- please? - They say they love you,
that they want to be yours forever,
but then you go through their phone,
and you see they've been texting their ex-girlfriend.
The guy doesn't even share the rent.
What is it with men?
Uh...
I don't know.
Men can be dogs.
But we still need you to open up box 1220.
This isn't from one of our boxes.
Our branch doesn't use this type of key.
- What about a different branch? - Maybe,
but you need to go to each branch and show them the key.
Wait, so each branch has a different key?
Banks change names. They get acquired by other banks.
Some fold. And when that happens,
they don't reissue keys to all their existing customers.
It's too complicated.
This key could be for a box at any branch of any bank.
I'm sorry.
You want all the names
of all the banks in the entire Bay Area?
That will be a long list.
Plus the other 24 FNP branches that we want to check out.
Well, we can't canvass every bank, so...
I could run a proximity search
based on Billy's permanent address.
His grandma's house. Yeah, do that.
There are more than 75 banks in a 5-mile radius.
Okay. Well, take a picture of the key
and e-mail it to all of them.
Somebody's got to recognize it.
Tucker, McCart, Wireman, Clay & Chang.
I'll transfer.
Tucker, McCart, Wireman, Clay & Chang.
Look at you, you smart son of a bitch.
- I'm sorry. He's not in. - Unbelievable.
- Would you like his voicemail? - Come on.
Let's go talk in my office.
Just remarkable work, the way you played the prosecutor.
Man, that was a thing of beauty.
I wouldn't call it "played," per se.
I advised my counsel
on which legal strategy would be best follow.
The photo evidence on your phone helped.
You heard about that.
There's hardly any secrets in the Hall of Justice.
She should've just let you plead to a misdemeanor
and saved both your careers.
Overreaching, man... It's a curse.
Did you just invite me here
to, uh, pat me on the back?
I convinced the executive committee to renew our offer.
You ready to change sides?
Ah.
What's this?
An inducement.
A signing bonus?
You got a lot of balls, Mario.
You tell the executive committee balls cost.
I'll wait here.
- You don't think so? - I don't think.
- Hey. - Hey.
Hey. So I've heard from like a dozen banks so far.
Not one of them recognizes your key,
which I think is predictive.
We could wait to hear back from all of them.
- Or? - Or I could break my rule
about zero communication with an ex.
To solve a double homicide?
A good reason doesn't make it easy.
Sorry.
Lana Decker is a master locksmith in Berkeley.
She knows everything there is to know about keys.
All right.
She's also the one that I let get away.
- Hmm. - She wanted to settle down,
and I wasn't ready for her.
- All about the timing, right? - Mm-hmm.
Right.
Definitely a safe deposit box, by the shape and thickness.
Right, well, Kami said she hadn't found anywhere
that recognized it yet, so...
She's not perfect.
Nobody is.
Personally, I'd never put something important in a bank.
Way too on the grid for me.
What's the alternative?
A private vault.
Totally anonymous, no SSNs on file,
better security, cheaper. What's not to like?
Well, where would you find one of these?
- Are they still around? - I know of one in Oakland
that took over a chapter-11 bank a few years back,
so this type of key would make sense.
Kami said you'd know everything there is to know about keys.
She broke my heart.
- Did she tell you that? - Well, she misses you.
Not enough to call me.
Well, what if she did?
I'd love to hear her voice.
Okay.
Uh, uh, sorry to interrupt. Where can I find
one of these vaults in Oakland that you're speaking of?
They have an iris scan, palm geometry,
fingerprint reader, full biometrics.
And, apparently, old-fashioned keys.
- That's weird. - It's not the box that matters.
It's the infrastructure around it.
Ask for Janko.
Maybe he'll like you.
I'll tell Keefer you said hi.
- Thank you. - Thanks.
Final bill...
Paid in full.
Wouldn't want the lights to turn off this month.
You know, you could have just... mailed it.
I could have.
I took a new job.
Frank Tucker's firm.
Signing bonus, name on the door.
Yeah, your own private toilet with a solid-gold seat.
Where are you going with this, Mario?
Are you jealous?
Yeah, bitterly.
Uh-huh. Why aren't you staying on as a D.A.?
I-I thought you wanted to, you know, clear your name,
get back on the whole political track.
Well, sometimes it's best to stop and reassess
and adjust your strategy. You know, the supreme art of war
is to subdue the enemy without fighting.
Well, this isn't ancient China,
and you ain't Sun Tsu.
And there doesn't always have to be an enemy, Mario.
Therein lies the difference between us, Al.
And you did a lot of damage
to save your own sorry ass.
You derailed Melissa Danson's career.
You ruined the A.G.'s reputation.
And then you forced your wife to humiliate herself
in public and on the record,
and made me look like an idiot,
played by my own client.
You are a shameless prick, Mario.
We do what we can with what we have.
I won.
Well,
technically, you won.
Please don't ever call me again.
Oh, Mr. Siletti?
Don't forget how this all happened.
It was the power of the vision board
that helped you to rise like a phoenix.
No, it wasn't.
Is this key to one of your boxes?
Maybe, maybe not.
Keys can look alike.
Okay, well, do you have a box numbered 1220?
People come to the private vault
because they don't trust the banks,
they don't trust the government,
and they don't trust the cops.
I know how they feel.
Janko, we have reason to believe
that the box-holder for this key was a murder victim.
May the soul rest in peace.
We're trying to solve a homicide,
not invade anyone's privacy.
Look, we can come back here with a search warrant, okay?
I don't know how good that would be for business.
And I'm guessing you wouldn't want us to run your name
though our database just in case we found out
that you were less than a model citizen.
In my country,
police threats leave teeth on the floor.
Welcome to America.
No one gets into our vault
without hand scan and fingerprint confirmation.
Plus iris recognition.
State-of-the-art security.
Sounds like an ad.
It is the ad.
Wait, where you going?
I never look inside.
All right.
See what we got.
So you don't know who rented the box.
Totally anonymous. No IDs,
no Social Security numbers, no names.
Here, you're just a box number. And we're proud of the privacy.
Okay, well, privacy ends at death, so...
Okay, so when was the last time
"Box Number 1220" entered the vault?
May 17th.
Okay. Thanks for your cooperation.
America... land of the free.
My ass.
All right, so, Billy accessed the box
the afternoon that Normandy was murdered.
That was May 17.
And took out whatever was in that.
- 'Cause otherwise, why go? - Exactly.
- The cash when we grabbed him? - The gun?
- Or both? - Or something else.
That wasn't on him at booking.
- Something he his somewhere? - Or gave someone.
Who'd Billy see between killing Normandy and getting killed?
- His grandma. - The barber.
Ooh, his lawyer... the barber's grandson, Nathan Woodward.
Remember, he was at the press conference with Billy.
He said, "Innocence doesn't keep black men alive in America."
- Mm. - Referring to me.
Mm, Yeah, 2623 Grand Avenue, Oakland,
in case you want to hit it.
Inspector Mulligan.
Yeah. Louise is my daughter.
What?
Okay, I'll, uh... I'll come pick her up right now.
Thanks. I appreciate the call, officer.
What's up? Everything okay?
No, not really. Instead of going to summer school today,
Louise decided to go shoplift makeup with her friends.
She's down at C.A.R.C. being processed right now.
Oh, I'm sorry.
She's turning into me when I was her age.
Angry kid with an attitude, making the same mistakes I did.
Hey, I'll take care of Woodward. You go take care of Louise.
All right. Thank you.
Yep.
Where's my mom?
She'll be here.
- All right, Louise, let's go. - I can go?
Yeah, you're lucky I didn't make you wait here all night.
I didn't steal anything, Mom.
I don't want to hear it. Get your stuff. Let's go.
It was Sophie's idea!
All I did was talk to the sales lady.
Sophie and Sarah took the makeup!
- Stop moving your lips. - If your mom weren't a cop,
there'd be charges against all of you.
- Do you understand? - We're only 12!
Mm-hmm. Old enough to make bad decisions.
Thank you, Nanette.
You have kids, Roberts?
Not yet.
Well, don't rush it.
I hear that.
I hope I never see you again, Louise.
- Mom, I didn't steal... - Stop.
You're a thief, and I'm ashamed of you.
It's a very simple question, Mr. Woodward.
Did Billy James give you anything
between May 17th and the day he was murdered?
I can't answer that. Attorney-client privilege.
Well, your client is dead and buried.
Privilege survives death.
Swidler and Berlin v. United States.
Okay, that's fine,
but I have two open homicides I'm trying to solve here.
Lizzie Borden took an axe
and gave her mother 40 whacks.
And when she saw what she had done,
she gave her father 41...
in 1892. And her attorney's law firm
is still protecting her files as confidential to this day.
Client's dead, attorney's dead, privilege lives on.
Look, Billy was your friend way before he was a client,
way before you even thought about being a lawyer, so...
Look, I know he gave you something,
or you wouldn't be reciting nursery rhymes.
You just would have said no.
You're entitled to your opinion, Inspector.
That's all it is.
Are we finished?
No wonder everybody hates lawyers.
Not as much as they hate cops.
All right. So sit down
and do your homework for tomorrow, okay?
- What if I have to pee? - Well, knock on the door.
Maybe someone will hear you. I got to go back to work.
You're locking me in here?
Look, think about it as jail
without the juvenile record, okay?
You don't even want to hear my side?
I've heard enough.
Ugh!
_
Reyes Law, personal injury attorneys.
If you don't win, you don't pay.
Mr. Siletti, Manuel Reyes, come on in.
Ana. _
_
It's impressive.
Thank you.
Oh, you can put your pen down, Mr. Reyes.
I didn't come here to negotiate.
Mr. Ramirez will not be getting his picture on your wall.
Your mistrial doesn't affect our lawsuit.
Well, the A.G.'s office
has decided not to re-file charges against me.
And O.J. was acquitted. So?
- The civil jury got it right. - Well, O.J. was a U.S. citizen.
Your client snuck across the border 15 years ago.
He has been using fake names
and fake Social Security numbers ever since
to take jobs away from people who respect and obey the law,
when he bothers working at all.
San Francisco is a sanctuary city.
And that won't protect Mr. Ramirez from federal action.
Here's how I see it.
Option "A," your client drops the civil suit against me,
and life goes on as he knows it.
Option "B," my friends at I.C.E.
somehow learn of your client's undocumented status.
Option "B" doesn't end well for him.
This is extortion.
I came here as a professional courtesy.
I didn't have to tell you.
Now, I'm sorry about the "no gana, no paga."
But you've done well for yourself.
What's that, 1/3 of every pay out?
I'll confer with my client.
His children just lost their mother.
Don't let him make this worse
by costing them their father, too.
You can walk yourself out, sir.
Leverage isn't extortion.
Or every case in every court would go to trial.
Nathan Woodward's got a secret he's not telling.
There's no way we can force him.
Wait, did you take Louise home?
I locked her in an interrogation room.
Wait, what?
Well, I couldn't leave her at home alone.
I wasn't gonna call my parents. I couldn't find a babysitter.
So at least I know if she's in there, she's safe, right?
Okay, uh...
Do you mind if I talk to her?
Go ahead. Feel my pain.
- You sure? - Do it.
Okay.
How we doing, Lou?
How do you stand her? She's such a bitch.
Ooh, easy, easy.
You know she loves you, right? She's just, uh...
She just worries about you.
She just worries that I'll mess up her schedule.
I try to stay out of her way.
You do?
Like to... uh, like today?
I knew you'd take her side.
I don't want to talk to you.
Okay.
Where are you going?
We have nothing new to talk about, Mario.
Well, you're wrong.
I just came from the Mayor's office,
where I strongly recommended
that you continue as acting D.A. until the next election.
He agreed.
Well, that wasn't necessary.
You're welcome.
So why would you do this for me?
I just... I-I think you're the right attorney for the job,
Marty. I respect you.
I appreciate your testimony for me.
You know, one good turn deserves another.
No.
You're thinking this will buy juice for your future clients
for when you start working the other side of the aisle.
Sorry.
Not from me, not from this office.
Of course not!
Congratulations, Marty.
I'll see you in court.
So how long you planning on leaving, uh, Louise
in the interrogation room?
Hmm, till the end of the day, when I'm ready to go home.
- No food? - She won't starve to death.
Well, is it cool
if I bring her a sandwich from the machine?
All right. Well, she hates mustard.
What if I bring her with me
and let her choose what she wants to eat?
All right, and then you can let her use the restroom.
Once.
Yeah, you're tough.
Mm. Obviously not tough enough.
I tried to tell her it wasn't my idea,
but she doesn't want to hear it.
Okay, well, I do.
Why don't you tell me?
Okay.
I was hanging out with Sophie and Sarah.
I'm not supposed to see Sophie because I borrowed her vape,
and my mom found it in my bag.
- Mm. - E-smoke isn't like smoking.
I know, right?
I mean, well, except for the nicotine, but...
Go ahead, go ahead. You guys are hanging out together, and...?
And we decided to go shopping.
We were gonna pay for the stuff, but then we didn't.
Mm-hmm. Oh. How come?
I don't know. I was talking to the sales lady
about how to, like, put on eye makeup
- 'cause my mom won't show me. - Right.
And then we kind of just, you know, left.
Right. So was it your job to distract the sales lady?
Maybe.
But it wasn't, like, my idea.
No, no, you were just kind of going along, right?
My mom thinks I'm a pain in the ass.
Well, you are.
I mean, so was I.
- So was I. - Yeah, right.
No, for real. Yeah, I was just about your age
when I started looking for trouble.
Ah, yeah.
I got bad grades.
Chose bad friends.
I think I actually held the record
for the most detentions back in the day.
What for?
Oh, man. Mouthing off,
cutting class... everything.
- You cut class? - Mm-hmm!
Yeah, I cut class, a lot.
It was cool, but also scary.
It... made me feel free, you know?
Then some of the older kids saw me,
asked me to run with them, join their set.
It was real exciting until...
they asked me to prove how down I was.
You know, and they asked me to do stuff I didn't like.
What?
Well, they asked me to jack somebody.
Did you?
What do you think?
I don't think so.
No, you're right.
Only because...
I heard this little voice in my head
that told me I was about to... to go down
a wrong-way, one-way road.
And that voice belonged to my mom.
She raised me all on her own, just like your mom.
Man, was she strict.
I couldn't do anything.
This, that, couldn't go anywhere.
She was the meanest mom on the block...
but she was the best.
Because she cared.
Well...
I miss her every day.
Oh.
I was 18.
It was a long time ago.
Who took care of you?
Who t... uh, Uncle Sam.
The Army.
The Army made sure I was right.
So...
Listen to your mom's voice in your head, all right?
She knows her shit.
When's she gonna take me home?
Soon, all right?
Here, eat.
How'd it go?
She's, uh... She's ready to leave.
I'm not looking forward to the fight we're gonna have to have.
She's a good kid, Hildy.
Mm, she scares me to death.
We used to be best friends.
Now I feel like I'm a cop, even when I'm off-duty.
All right. What do you want to do about Nathan Woodward?
Okay, I got, uh... I got one play for tomorrow,
but it's a long-shot, so...
Why don't you take Louise home?
I'll finish up all this paperwork.
- Are you sure? - Yeah, I'm good.
- Have a good night. - All right.
Don't work too late.
Okay.
Oh, no, no, no, no, no.
I told you no phone, no iPad for a week, okay?
How am I supposed to do homework?
By actually doing your homework, not Googling the answers.
Louise?!
Facebook is not homework, okay?
God, you can't stop lying.
- Neither can you! - What is that supposed to mean?
I know about you and Terry.
He's not just your partner, he's your boyfriend!
You have sex!
Louise!
Go away.
Why did you say that about Terry?
- I'm not stupid. - I know you're not.
It's just so totally obvious about you and him.
I mean, who gives a kid an iPad
unless he's got something going with her mom?
How do you feel about that?
I know you and Dad are a bad idea.
Honey, you are the only thing
that your dad and I ever got right.
I'm grateful to him for you.
So... Do you love Terry?
Yeah, I do.
But we're not together like that anymore.
You broke up already?
No. We're still friends.
We're still partners.
It's just...
not more than that.
Too bad.
Why, you like him?
Yeah.
I feel like he gets me.
And I don't?
Thanks a lot.
No, it's just Terry doesn't treat me
like I'm still a little kid, and I'm not, Mom.
Okay.
What happened?
With us?
Um...
Well, we wanted to be together.
But sometimes
life doesn't care about what you want,
you know?
And making the right choice can be really hard,
like you found out today when your friends talked you into
stealing from that store, right?
- Mom... - I know, I know.
We agreed in the car, we're not gonna talk about it anymore.
It's fine.
I didn't tell you the truth in the car.
What do you mean?
They didn't talk me into it.
It was my idea. I planned it.
Why?
To see if they'd do it.
So you put all your friends at risk?
Well, you fixed things.
So that was your backup plan?
That I would get you out of it?
God, you're breaking my heart here, Louise.
I'm sorry. I-I'm so sorry, Mom.
How am I supposed to believe you?
Because it's true.
I didn't have to tell you the truth.
I could have just kept lying.
But I'm trying to do what's right.
Okay. Okay, come here.
I know you are,
all right? I know you are.
So you and the wife just sit there, not saying a word?
We just sit there.
Since when?
Since right after our youngest moved out.
Been months now.
You've got the empty-nest blues, my man.
Happens to the best of us.
Uh, what do we do?
Start over again with each other.
You know, pay attention to her.
I acted like that,
she'd just think I got something going on on the side.
No, no. Not happening. Well, maybe you should get yourself
a little something on the side. Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
- Trying to get me killed? - Don't say that to him.
- No, don't put that in his mind. - I'm trying to help him!
Morning, fellas. Mr. Woodward.
Morning. Um...
What can I do for you, Inspector?
Uh, do you mind if I take you out for breakfast?
Did you hear about the, uh...
the tribute that they're doing for Normandy?
I read about it in the paper last week.
Like a memorial patch on a jersey
does a damn thing.
Yeah, well, you know...
It's a way to keep the spirit alive.
It's a way for them to sell more jerseys.
They make money even off the dead.
- Mm. - But...
You're not buying my breakfast to talk about the NFL.
- Oh, no. - No, sir, I'm not.
We actually... We need your help.
I can't tell you what I don't know.
Well, your grandson, we think he may have
some information that could lead us to...
to Billy's killer.
Then you should be having breakfast with him.
As you know, it goes against his principles to, uh...
to cooperate with the police.
So you... you want me to lean on my grandson
in exchange for a biscuit and a couple of eggs?
- Come on, man! - Well, when you put it
- like that... - Yeah, yeah.
Yes.
Oh, wow. What kind of budget they give you down there?
Oh, man, you're killing me.
Well, I figure we all have, uh...
We all have something in common, you, me, and him.
We care about the truth.
You know, w-whatever it may be.
I could walk you in.
You are something shameless, using him like this.
To try to manipulate me into violating legal ethics.
I'm sitting right here, Nathan.
Don't talk around me like I'm an old fool.
If you could be of any help, you owe it to Rainelle to speak up.
That woman's been feeding you every Sunday
since you were old enough to walk.
Rainelle understands who this man is.
He shot an unarmed brother dead.
I'm not trying to change your mind about the police.
But this is personal.
Whatever Billy did is already over and done.
And God will handle him.
What was done to Billy, though,
that's on this side of the compass.
Any way you can help find his killer,
you owe it to Rainelle,
and to Billy.
You hearing me?
The truth will set you free?
You could do worse than quote the Bible.
You know what's right.
This came in the mail the day after Normandy was killed.
"From Billy James, to Billy James.
Care of Nathan Woodward."
It's a federal offense to open someone else's mail.
I locked it in a file cabinet for safekeeping.
After Billy was arrested,
he instructed me to hold onto it for him. You know what's inside?
I didn't ask him, and he didn't tell me.
Thank you, Mr. Woodward.
Thank my grandfather.
Hey, so, Nathan Woodward changed his mind.
Oh, you miracle worker.
Well, it doesn't feel heavy enough to be a weapon.
- Mnh-mnh. - Let's see what's inside.
Yeah.
Hey, did you say something to Louise about us?
What? No, of course not.
Okay, 'cause she threw it in my face last night, so...
How could she ever know something like that?
iPad. Kids are smarter than they look.
Well, how does she feel?
Just sad it's over.
Well, so am I.
Okay. Jesus.
It's like an Egyptian mummy.
Mm.
Okay.
Mm, power it up.
Nothing.
It's out of juice.
We need Keefer.
Hey, thanks for putting in a good word for me with Lana.
Mm, hope I didn't overstep.
We have a date this weekend. Who knows?
So, this phone is protected by a six-digit passcode.
1 million possible combinations,
instead of 10,000 like the four-digit version,
which would have been bad enough.
Right, but you can do anything, so...
Does this look like NSA, CIA, DOD, FBI resources?
Here's why flattery fails.
If I enter the wrong passcode 10 consecutive times,
the phone permanently erases all of its data,
making it a $400 paperweight as far as you're concerned.
Right, but why can't we recreate Billy's fingerprint
to unlock the touch pad,
I mean, using his records and a 3-D printer? Wouldn't that work?
Sure, except once a phone has been turned off
or locked for more than 48 hours or drained the battery,
it requires a passcode.
This one was off and locked and dead.
Of course. So the thing basically is a paperweight.
I could try the two most common six-digit passcodes...
123456, and...
- 654321. - 654321.
For real?
- People have no imagination. - Go for it.
Oh, man.
- We still have eight tries left. - And still no insight.
I mean, we don't even know if it's Billy's phone.
We just know it was in his possession. I can help you with that.
I could trace the serial number off the back of the phone
and find out where and when it was sold.
That's easy.
All right, do it.
No problem. Hi. Welcome to Chestnut Connect.
- May I help you? - Hey, Greg.
- You're the manager, yeah? - I am.
SFPD, Homicide.
We need to know who bought the phone with this serial number.
Wait, so the woman who called was telling me the truth?
Sorry, she just didn't sound like a cop.
Uh...
What does a-a cop sound like? I'm... I'm just curious.
Oh, n... I wasn't, um, saying that because she's a woman.
Right, right. I mean, personally, I'm a feminist.
Right, me, too. How's that serial number coming,
- there, Greg? - Uh, right.
It's, um... yeah, no, I'm just trying to explain
that you can't believe everyone who calls and says that they're a cop.
I mean, it could be a-a pissed-off wife or a girlfriend.
Or, you know, a-a husband.
- Totally, yeah. - Yeah.
- Mm... - How we doing?
Oh. Yeah.
Don't stop there, Greg.
Well, it's 1 of the 10 phones
that I sold last Christmas to Alicia Barnes.
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