him
was returned with no forwarding address.
I am sorry that I can't be of more help.
We appreciate your cooperation.
It's nothing. I just hope that
you find whoever killed him.
Oh, we'll get 'em.
Martin, would you come in here, please?
So? What do they know?
So far they don't know a damn thing.
But for how long?
That goddamn Tyler could sink us.
We're gettin' outta here tonight.
Get it organised.
That got us nowhere.
- I'm not so sure.
- What?
- I think our nice Mr Mason is bent as hell.
- Come on!
No.1. Mason says he never heard
of William J Adams. Right?
Adams is an ex-cop, pullin'
a black-bag operation for these people.
He fucks it up and he gets shit-canned.
And Mason never even heard of him?
That's bullshit.
No.2. When I tell him Adams had been
murdered, Mason doesn't ask me how.
Everybody, Mickey, has
a morbid sense of curiosity.
- Of course.
- Everybody but Adams' old boss.
It's a theory.
Mason is definitely bent.
How bent is something I'm gonna find out.
Martin, one thing I forgot to mention.
There's a Mr Tyler
calling for Colonel Mason.
Tell him to keep holding for a second.
- Keep him talking. I'll trace. What line?
- Line two.
Tyler?
This is Lipton.
No, Mason isn't here.
Well, we didn't really expect...
Awful sorry about that, mate,
but if you knew all the details...
Yeah, I'm listening.
OK, you're absolutely right. It is time.
OK. Listen, Tyler...
I'm sure that can be arranged.
Listen, would you hold for a second?
He's in the building, for Chrissakes,
calling from a pay phone in the lobby!
Where the hell are you, Tyler?!
Remember why you hired me, Lipton.
For my "particular genius".
Meet me in 20 minutes exactly
at the corner of Bowery and Houston.
Mason! Did you hear that?
Get him. And make sure
you finish him off!
Tyler's in a phone booth
at the corner of Houston and Bowery.
Just keep drivin'!
Turn left and head east.
Yeah, OK.
This better be good.
Forensic got the prints
of these two at 51st and 11th.
- What happened there?
- A guy was blown away in a phone booth.
- I don't see the connection...
- Look at their social security numbers.
Whose social security numbers?
The two men who killed
the guy in the phone booth.
- Consecutive.
- Yeah, but look.
Varrick was born in Maryland,
Gallagher in Idaho - and three years apart.
How can their numbers
be consecutive unless...?
Unless they're phonies.
I thought: Who makes up
social security numbers?
And I remembered you were
looking into witness relocation.
This could be worth
an extra week in Jamaica.
You couldn't be away from me that long.
That's very intelligent, Velez.
Let's get our old friend Adams up there.
Don't erase it. Put 'em both up,
like on a split screen.
I can't.
Let me take some notes.
Leo...
Shit. I never would've
thought of that in a million years.
- It's consecutive.
- Bingo.
That means they're all phoney
and they all work for the same guy.
And I know who that guy is.
Velez...
You are a damn good cop.
Thanks.
Take all of Jamaica.
And the Bronx and Staten Island, too.
OK, give me the keys.
- Look...
- I said the keys!
I'll take that.
- Get out!
- I'm comin'.
I said out!
- Look...
- Shut up!
Andy, out. Your turn to ride up front.
You - get in.
- Get in!
- Wait!
I thought we were gonna talk!
Now just sit there
and don't ask any questions.
Lipton?
I want Mason's address!
Go fuck yourself, Tyler!
All right, have it your own way!
Put your belt on.
Tyler! Are you crazy?!
- Are you all right?
- You're killin' me!
Wait a minute!
- Now tell me where Mason is!
- For Christ's sake, Tyler, I don't know!
Maybe this'll jog your memory!
Wait a minute! Wait!
You still alive?
How about you, Lipton?
Havin' a good time?
All right! Stop! Please!
OK, Lipton!
- You wanna talk now?
- All right! All right.
So where does Mason live?!
- Colonel Mason isn't here.
- Then I need his home address.
That's classified.
Lady, I don't give