Special Correspondents

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1

[siren wailing in distance]

[people chattering

indistinctly over radio]

[radio chatter continues]

[man 1 over radio] We've got a homicide,

possibly gang-related.

York Hotel.

[man 2]

Yeah, copy that, Control. 10-4.

York Hotel, as quick as you can.

Thanks, sweetie.

[upbeat rock song playing]

Hey, Frank, how about a freebie?

[laughing]

[man] Thanks.

[baby giggles]

[truck horn honking]

- [siren wailing]

- [horns honking]

[siren chirping]

- Detective Crankovich.

- [cop] Sorry, Detective...?

Mankovich. Frank.

Frank Mankovich. Detective.

Don't let anybody through,

especially the press.

- Detective Hankovich.

- [cops] Detective.

Hey, we're part of the investigation.

Detective Frank Wankovich.

Detective Claire Lady.

What happened here?

I already told

all your colleagues everything.

Well, you can tell me again, then.

Well, I was by reception and a man

came in, and he was wearing a helmet

and he had a gun with a silencer.

Mm-hm. And then?

Well, he pointed the gun at Mr. Ivanov

and shouted something in Russian, I think.

Then he shot him.

- What did he look like?

- [Perry] Bonneville.

Superintendent.

I'm not disturbing you,

I hope, Bonneville?

Oh. Not at all.

Oh. Claire Maddox,

Perry, head of homicide.

- Hi.

- Get out of here. Both of you.

Right now. Or I'll slap you in custody.

- Wait, you're not a detective?

- No.

My name is Frank, though.

This wasn't all a lie.

We had some good times, right?

[chattering]

- [man] Detective, a comment, please?

- Okay, let them through.

- Hey. What? What are you doing?

- He said let them through.

- You don't let anybody through.

- Oh.

Oh, I've gotta go, darling.

- [Frank] Get me the control room.

- They're on.

- Hey.

- [Mallard] So, you got a story, Frank?

"Russian Mafia Wars."

How's that sound?

[Mallard]

Okay. Let's do it now.

Standing by. And you're on.

At 8:
45, Sergei Ivanov,

a.k.a. Three Fingers,

a figure in the Russian Mafia,

left his room at the York Hotel.

He'd just breakfasted on eggs, toast,

and a black coffee. His last breakfast.

The sumptuous lifestyle

and escapades of Sergei Ivanov,

mover and shaker in the nightclubs

of Manhattan and New Jersey...

Two minutes in the hotel

and he comes out with a story.

- A true artist. He's the best.

- He's certainly the best at what he does.

...a war that has only just begun.

This is Frank Bonneville, 365 News.

That was great.

- You need any help?

- No, I'm fine. Won't be a minute.

"Darling."

- Who was that, then, your girlfriend?

- I'm married.

Ah. [chuckles]

So, it's his wife.

- [Finch] Yeah.

- Eh! He's a player.

- Aren't you, Finch? Huh?

- [video game noises]

- Chick in every port?

- Nah.

[Finch groans]

[Claire] Oh.

- [Claire] You okay?

- [Finch] Yeah, fine.

[Claire] You want a coffee?

[Finch] Yeah, can I get a skim-milk latte?

- [Claire] You on a diet?

- [Finch] A bit, yeah.

I had a medical,

and apparently I'm 25 percent fat.

- Is that bad?

- Yeah. It's more than some snacks.

[both chuckle]

[Claire] Ooh!

- Okay.

- See you later.

[chattering]

There he is.

Huh?

Look at you.

First reporter with the story, again.

All other journalists

banned from the site.

Ha!

Oh, no, wait. What are these?

"Impersonating an officer."

"Tampering with a crime scene."

- I got results.

- You're not Dirty Harry!

At best, you're an underachiever

at a local radio station.

Often, a drunk underachiever.

- Would you rather I didn't get the story?

- Than break the law? Yeah.

Why break the law? Plenty of news

without having to break the law.

If you run out,

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