Cruising

Captain.

Something off the port bow.

See if you can match it to that torso

that came in last month.

Otherwise, you know, doc,

''circumstances undetermined...

...pending a police investigation.''

- Wait a minute.

We got a hand here.

If we can get a fingerprint,

we can make this a homicide.

All right, you give me a cause of death.

I can't give you

a cause from this.

It's obvious it's not a suicide,

and it's not a natural.

Doc, you know I can't prosecute a homicide

without a cause of death.

That means I'd have to go out

and find the rest of the body.

No good, doc.

I got too much on my plate now.

Just a numbers game, huh?

Body count? That's all it is to you guys.

The only way you'll prosecute a murder...

...is if you've got a guy downtown

signing a confession.

She ain't gonna make

a fool out of me.

Takes the kids and goes to Florida

to see her sister, leaves me a note.

Ten years.

- They're all scumbags.

- What?

They're all scumbags.

- Who?

- All of them.

You're better off.

Just drive the car, huh?

You'll be driving this car the rest

of your life. You don't know nothing.

I'll get that b*tch.

She ain't gonna jerk me around.

I'll get her.

- You'll get her.

- Damn straight I will.

One day this whole city

is gonna explode.

Used to be able to play stickball

on these streets.

Now look at these guys.

Christ, what's happening?

Hey, girls, you working?

- You buying?

- No, honey, I ain't buying.

Hey, what is that?

You'll break your ass you fall down

in those high heels.

- Yeah, so will your sister.

- My what?

Come here, I'll break your face.

Come here.

Hey, man, give us a break, okay?

I said, come here.

Come on, you already hauled

my ass in last week, hard-on.

A lot of good it did me.

Come on, baby, I cannot handle

another bust this month.

Hey, look, you're on my corner again,

shithead. You know what that means?

Get in the car.

In the car.

P*ssy.

You remind me of a fella

I used to know.

He used to be a coke sucker.

Before that he was a cork soaker.

- You guys are hilarious.

- Yeah?

Come up here.

I wanna show you my nightstick.

Move your ass.

Get up here.

Do I qualify?

- I hate cigarettes.

- Oh, really?

- I think they're disgusting.

- Well, I enjoy them.

All it is is anal regression.

If you wanna quit, I suggest you try

another form of childhood stroke.

I don't wanna quit.

I suggest you try

an ostrich feather...

...along the small of your back,

up your spine to the nape of your neck.

Sounds addictive.

- Why do you come here?

- Why do you?

Because I'm having ego problems,

I need to be worshiped and adored.

- Where you from?

- Mars.

Terrific. I never made it

with a Martian before.

What are you doing?

Just looking for a pack of cigarettes.

Why, are you afraid?

Should I be?

Have you ever been ripped off?

I don't have anything to take.

I can't believe you're not afraid.

Who's here?

I'm here

You're here

Now I'm afraid.

Yeah.

Lie down.

Go on.

Lie down.

Yeah.

Turn over.

- What?

- I said, turn over.

- What are you gonna do?

- I know what I have to do.

Please.

I don't wanna make this

too tight for you.

Please. Please.

Please. Please. Plea...

You made me do that.

Anus was dilated

at the time of death...

...slight rupture above the anus

indicating intercourse.

We found semen...

...but I can't identify it.

- What do you mean?

- Aspermia.

In English.

No sperm. Your killer's shooting blanks.

His semen tested positively,

but it doesn't have any sperm in it.

Why not?

Well, maybe he has some

physical aberration or a malfunction.

Could be his testes are infected,

maybe he had a vasectomy.

What else?

Well, this first wound here,

that's clean...

...which means

he never knew it was coming.

But this one and these, they're defensive,

which means he tried to resist.

So we have a top-to-bottom grouping...

...and from the angle of entry,

I'd say your killer was right-handed.

- This knife is leaving its own fingerprints.

- That's right.

And from the serrations,

the width of the cut, the depth...

...approximately 3 inches

into the flesh...

...l'd say it matches the other killing

pretty close. Close enough.

I know him. Yeah, I know this guy.

He don't come around no more.

He beat some guys

out of some bread.

I know this dude too.

I seen him on the deuce.

He gives the best beatings

like six ways from Sunday.

Didn't you work uptown with him?

Work uptown with him, man? No.

I don't work with nobody.

A john just comes to me

and tells me what he wants.

Have fantasy will travel.

Well, that fellow was seen with

the Columbia professor who got whacked.

And he says that you introduced him.

That's possible. See?

But this guy ain't no killer.

I mean he's a pull-together hustler.

All right.

I gotta talk to you, alone.

Okay.

I need a favor, man.

These two cops

working out of 6th Precinct...

...they been leaning on me.

Who are they?

I think one guy's name is Simone

or something like that.

The other guy is Jerry something

or whatever.

They're partners.

A couple of real f***ing hard-ons.

And dig, they run me

the other night...

...and this guy Simone, he made me

give him head right in his radio car.

Take your foot off the table.

You're full of sh*t.

- I swear to Christ.

- How do you know they're cops?

Because they're wearing shields

and riding around in a radio car.

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