Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

The raids, the follow, one or both sent him underground.
Don't use the phone.
That was Walt. Walt Stokes.
They said that whoever did that to them girls was dead.
No one fucks with us on our turf.
I mean, about Frank.
This guy, Stephen Rados? What's he?
In Philly, they said.
And what happened?
Defense wounds on both hands.
What I am saying to you is: I will take care of them myself.
Instead of your union running out of this office...
Our old friend.
They killed my uncle.
Port cops are sitting on a can that came off the Adriatica.
Under the Key Bridge.
I'm gonna charge his narrow ass.
I don't know.
-Tape is fucked up. -It's multiplexed.
What the fuck you gonna do?
I figure when the detail's over, I go back to straight narcotics.
that if there's no cleaning up in here...
Anything we could lift from the docks went straight to his store...
What's gonna happen, Nicky?
He put himself in, talked about buying the gun.
Look at this, Kima.
"What about Kima? What's up with my girl?"
He had to die.
You wanted us to get a place, right?
Good looking out, Johnny.
Okay, listen.
Okay, thanks.
You gotta do better than that, Lester.
By the plan, it's a hot box, but there's no one on a pick-up.
of the security officer that was on this pier that night?
he was a dead end.
Him and the other Eastsiders moved into the Terrace...
What was she firing, yo?
-What's the verdict? -He did good for us.
I guess we could offer up Dixon and Prop Joe to Narcotics.
In all likelihood, Frank Sobotka was going to speak to that.
You want a coffee? Soda?
No use in dragging a headless torso around further than you need.
You're gonna do your son-in-law?