Thirteen bodies, all female eleven White, two Asian-looking.
All between the ages of maybe 20, 30.
All very dead.
From Eastern Europe probably.
So this is, what, an accident? Your air pipe's up top, crushed.
Probably during the off-load.
So, yeah, accidental probably.
But that's his call, right? - Doctor.
- Frazier.
How're we doing here? - How are we doing? - I mean, what are we doing? What's the plan with all this? Is this your first death investigation, Officer? Russell.
Yeah, first and onliest.
You got 13 for the price of one.
We're gonna start cutting this afternoon.
Anything you got by way of identifications should come through my office.
What identification? So far, we don't have a passport or visa in the bunch.
Whatever you find in this luggage, send it over or they're all going to the Anatomy Board as Jane Does.
Who's the investigating agency? If they were alive, they'd be illegals, and that would mean Immigration.
- But they're dead, so they're cargo.
- Cargo, but no contraband.
There's nothing to be seized as a customs violation.
They're dead on Port Authority property, right? - Yeah.
- That's a state thing.
We'll eat it.
If it's accidental, then it's just about IDs on these stowaways, right? Good enough for me, brother.
No reason to open a full case folder that I can see.
Wait a minute.
You CID guys are rolling out on this? No crime, no investigation.
All you've got right here, Officer Russell, is a lot of paperwork.
And then there was one.
- You don't have to do this.
- No? Anything you're gonna say I already said to Spiros.
You called him a Greek asshole? You think we wanted this? I don't know what the fuck you people want and don't want.
All I know is, I got a can full of young girls suffocating to death on my docks.
- This was a mistake.
- A mistake? They fucking died in that can while this stupid son of a bitch sat there with his dick in his hands.
You know nothing.
We understand you're upset, Frank.
We are upset, too, okay? Sergei was supposed to wait for our friend to come off the boat.
Our friend was supposed to tell us that there was no problem you know, no Customs.
- He did not come off the boat.
- Why the fuck not? This is what we're trying to find out.
We don't know.
Because you don't get the right message, these girls are dying on my docks? This is how it goes? On my docks, this happened! I understand how you feel but we're upset, too.
Everybody, we're all upset.
Nobody here wanted this.
Uncle Frank, they're saying it wasn't on purpose.
You could've told me there were girls in that fucking can.
You could've told me, so I didn't just shove them back in the stacks like I did, right? Why didn't you tell me what was in that motherfucking can? Now you want to know what's in the cans? Before, you wanted to know nothing.
Now, you ask.
Guns, okay? Drugs, whores, vodka, BMWs beluga caviar or bombs, maybe.
- Bad terrorists with big nuclear bombs.
- Boom.
I am kidding you, Frank, it's a joke.
But you don't ask because you don't want to know.
Tell the Greek that next time he's got something breathing in one of them cans, I need to know it.
Give him a couple of days, you know? So Roberto been caught? Yep, DEA got him in New York.
Now the shit makes some sense.
The money we sent for the last go-round came back.
All of it.
Damn, they ain't gonna touch us now? Goddamn Dominicans running around scared acting like we the problem.
Roberto won't even see us.
Stringer had to go to the lawyer up there.
They saying they have to be sure before they get back with us.
- They saying you only got seven years, so- - So I'm a motherfucking snitch? They ain't saying they think it.
They just don't know how the Feds got to Roberto.
- So we on the outside.
- Yep.
Look we hanging on to them projects with scraps.
Avon, you gotta have somebody for us.
A friend in Atlanta owns a rim shop, name of Vargus.
Have Stringer fly down there tomorrow and meet him.
You seen D'Angelo lately? He on the J-tier, you know what I mean? It's very difficult for me to get over there, you know? So you ain't checking on him, and Donette's out and about.
- I don't know what's what anymore.
- Now, what's up with Donette? I leave messages, she ain't call back.
She ain't had her ass down here regular neither.
We need to tighten shit up, Avon.
She should be bringing his son by every week.
Yeah, I'm gonna put Stringer on that, too.
After all he has done for us Dee needs to be cared for, Avon.
- Promises were made.
- I know.
He took the 20, he ain't complaining.
He is carrying a lot of weight for this family.
And we keeping him close.
Dee being cold toward me right now.
He in this motherfucker trying to make adjustments and shit.
Adjustments? Brianna you know damn well I ain't gonna let shit happen to him, right? - You got these off the boat? - What, in winter? In a couple of months.
Fringe benefit.
Can't catch crabs in Homicide, right? Except maybe the occasional emergency room nurse every now and again.
- Need some air in here.
- Leave it.
I don't need the hassle if Rawls comes past.
You're not the run-of-the-mill kind of asshole, are you? - You're the special kind of asshole.
- I'm special, all right.
How long did it take you to figure out the tide took that girl over the county line? - Three hours.
- Three hours with your little harbor maps and your tide tables just to stick Rawls with an extra body.
Never mind that you just fucked Cole with a stone whodunit.
- That's collateral damage.
- Yeah.
Are you gonna waste that crab gut? You're a pussy, besides, Jimmy.
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