Rizzoli and Isles 2x09|Gone Daddy Gone
Sync by Gatto, corrected by ilse|www.addic7ed.com
No, no, no.
- Did you forget?|- Oh, shoot.
Maura, this crack-of-dawn|run was your idea.
Damn it, I could have|slept in. I am so sorry.
Hey, babe,|once you touch it,
you got to do something|with it.
What is Tommy doing|here so early?
It's not early so much as late.
He spent the night.
Playing chess.|He's quite good.
Knight to b3.
Mm. Declining the gambit.|Risky move.
I didn't realize you two|were so chummy.
Oh, this isn't chummy.
I've all but destroyed|his king's pawn defense.
- Whatever.|- Mm. Good for you.
Mom goes to Atlantic city|for a few days,
and now you're sleeping over?
Like she said, Jane,|we're just playing chess.
Best opponent I ever faced.
Yeah, okay,|I'll be right there.
Come on, we got|a possible homicide.
- We got to go.|- I'm about to castle.
And I...I haven't been|called in yet.
No moves without me.
No moves at all.
Show yourself out.
Do not sleep with my brother.
Jane, it hadn't even|occurred to me.
Although he does have|exquisite long bones.
"Long bones"? Eww!
Look, it's his mind that I find|myself most attracted to.
He barely graduated|high school.
Well, Bobby Fischer|was a high-school dropout,
and he's a world|chess champion.
Well, okay,|so when Tommy becomes
a world-class chess champion,|you can sleep with him.
Neighborhood thieves stripped|this baby clean last night.
Didn't get around to calling us|about all the blood in it
till an hour ago.
What, they steal|the victim, too?
<i>All we know is that|there was one.</i>
Well, it's a good place|to dump a car
if you're gonna kill|somebody in it.
Two distinct patterns|of arterial spray.
Both the victim's carotids|were severed.
Whoever sat here|is most certainly dead.
Without a body, we're gonna need|as much evidence as we can get.
Uh, hey, officer,|spread the word that BPD
will pay triple what any|pawn shop or fence will pay
for anything stripped off|this car ... no questions asked.
And, uh, anything|that gets turned in,
homicide gets it first.
It's Duncan, by the way.
My name ...|officer Ronald Duncan.
Did I say something wrong?
People just like|to be acknowledged, Jane.
Which reminds me ...
- No.|- Jane?
Sensitivity training|is mandatory
for the entire department,
and it's incumbent on me|to make sure that you attend.
Look,|I don't want to pull rank.
I'm in the middle of|a homicide investigation.
I don't have time to go sit|with some emo-Nazi
and have her tell me what I can|or cannot say
to all the lowlifes|and scumbags
and gangbangers|that I got to deal with.
Uh, car belongs to a|Melissa Joy Black from Michigan.
22 years old.
Called Ann Arbor P.D.|No stolen-car report.
They checked her phone there ...|disconnected.
Yeah, well, it's 'cause|she lives in Boston now.
That's a current parking pass|at the local terminal.
My guess is...
Melissa Joy works at the docks.
Secretary in one|of the offices, maybe?
Well, now,|that's a very sexist remark
coming from a guy who's|pitching sensitivity training.
She's 5'2" working|at the docks.
How's that sexist?
Because a mesomorphic|woman of that height
could easily lift two|times her body weight,
Frost, e-mail this to me?
Hey, you want to process|the crime scene?
I'm gonna go to the docks.
You, of course,|are coming with me.
Well, you know,|I'm beginning to think
that you are deliberately|trying to take me
away from my chess game.
<i>Yes, Maura, I am sabotaging|your knight-to-queen castle</i>
<i>I drove you here.</i>
Hey, babe.|Nice tits.
Oh, yeah, we've been waiting|for you all our lives.
What's he think we're gonna do?
Just run over there|and tear off his clothes?
He's not thinking|consciously at all.
- It's a natural chemical response|to our pheromones. - Really?
"Nice tits" is a natural|chemical response?
Perceived fertility|is Paramount.
Males seek mates capable|of nursing offspring.
Abundant breasts|do suggest ...
Yeah, you know what|his abundant belly suggests?
Snowball's chance in hell.
Here ... The office is over here.
Oh, hey, excuse me.
Can you tell me|who's in charge here?
So am I.
Hey, what can I do|for you lovely ladies?
That's a doctor.|I'm a detective.
And you are...?
Ray Murphy. I'm the|Union rep around here.
Is there a problem?
Are you familiar|with this employee?
Melissa Joy Black?
Well, I can tell you
she's not one of the|office girls.
It appears every female here|is over the age of 18.
Could she be a longshoreman?
I guess she could be|one of the casual workers,
but we don't have|many gi... girls.
Um, let me have you talk|to one of the Union bosses.
This detective|needs to talk to you.
You're a cop.|That's a turnoff.
Bummer. Do you recognize her?
She walked off the job halfway|through her shift yesterday.
Affirmative-action hires|are bullshit.
No muscle, no use.
Actually, male and female|muscle tissue is identical.
What varies is the size|of the male skeletal frame.
Men generally have|less body fat.
But not always.
What's going on?
Need some help!|Call 911!
Tide started going out
when one of the guys|noticed her.
It's Melissa Joy Black.
Is that ...
It's an ice pick, Jane.
Doesn't mean he's back.
Yes, it does.
Paddy Doyle's signature ...
Ice pick through the heart|with a message attached.
I guess he didn't|like e-mail.
What kind of message|is he sending, though,
with the murder of a 22-year-old|female dockworker?
Whatever it is,|I won't be the one
forensically interpreting it.
I'm calling in Dr. Pike|from the Western Mass office.
Oh, no, anybody but him.
Don't know what's worse ...
his pompous attitude|or his O.C.D.
That's very insensitive|language, sergeant Korsak.
I'm sure language like that
would really hurt|Dr. Pike's feelings.
Come on, Maura.
You don't have to do this.|All right?
The only people who know|about your connection to Doyle
are us and frost.
We may finally be
able to prosecute|Paddy Doyle for murder.
I don't want to risk|a defense attorney finding out
that he's my biological father
and using it against us|in court.
What are you gonna tell Pike?
We don't have to tell him|anything. I'm his boss.
Oh, my God.
Bill Sutton, Mass Shore|Chief Executive Officer.
Is there some way...
Her body can be covered?
It's, uh ...|it's pretty upsetting.
You say you're with Mass Shore?
Yes, our company|runs the docks.
Some people say|the mob still does.
Well, uh, I know there's a long|history of that down here.
Ever since we took|over last fall,
we've taken steps|to change that.
Don't think Paddy Doyle's|taken too kindly to that.
You don't think he had anything|to do with this, do you?
A dockworker is tied|to the piling
with an ice pick|sticking out of her chest
for everybody here to see?
Yeah, we think|there may be a connection.
Mr. Sutton, have you|or anybody at your company
received any graft demands|or extortion threats
- since you took over?|- No.
Our corporation doesn't have|any ties to the mob.
And by "they"|you mean the dockworkers.
Look, like every company,
we've had our troubles|with the Union.
You're probably not gonna get|a lot of help out of those guys,
but we'll do everything we can.
Sooner we can rid the docks|of this element, the better.
All right, well,|you can start by getting us
all your surveillance|video footage ...
Anyplace you got a camera.
You got it.
He's right, you know.|Longshoremen won't talk.
It goes against their code.
Remember that line|from "on the waterfront"?
"I don't know nothin'.
I ain't seen nothin'.|I ain't sayin' nothin'."
Here's the deal.
<i>I'll do sensitivity training,|you don't do Brando.</i>
Could he be more anal?
Although he exhibits many of|the classic Freudian traits ...
rigidity, fixation on rules|and orderliness ...
his autopsy work|is less than meticulous.
When will you be starting?
Seems not much stock is put
in the proper placement|of instruments here.
You gonna let him|talk to you like that?
This is ridiculous.
You're his boss.
Is there something particular|you require, doctor?
Now, we have a well-developed|female Caucasian,
22 years old,
with an incised gaping wound|across the neck.
Later that same day...
I do miss this.
Not many near decapitations
in the hinterlands|of Western Massachusetts.
The ice pick is a nice touch,
though unnecessary ...|she bled out in under a minute.
That Doyle really is a butcher,|isn't he?
Will you excuse me?
Don't let that idiot get to you.
Well, I can't fault him|for telling the truth.
<i>Paddy Doyle is a butcher.</i>
Paddy Doyle has nothing to do|with you.
He fathered me.
He...Simply provided|the sperm.
And judging by the amazing|person that you turned out to be,
his DNA didn't win.
I don't understand the strategy|behind this attack.
Well, that's simple.
I mean, Doyle is just|trying to scare the hell
out of anybody that won't do|his bidding at the docks.
No. I-I meant Tommy's decision|to move his rook to b5.
Wait a minute.|My little brother
is im'ing you at the office and|sending you little smiley faces,
and there's nothing going on|between you two?
Well, you and I keep in|touch throughout the day.
It must be my amazing|long bones.
I hope you can forgive me for my|invasion of your personal space.
Allow me to introduce myself|so we can dialogue.
My name is Carol Madigan.
Sensitivity training liaison.
Dr. Maura Isles.
How may I help you?
I'm looking for|detective Rizzoli,
who I'm told is here,|although she's scheduled
to be in my "connect, protect,|and respect" class.
You seen her?
I believe she is|in the building.
Um, but...I don't see her|right now.
Tell her I'm looking for her.
You sicced that|sensitivity freak on me?
<i>"Freak"? Maybe you do need|sensitivity training.</i>
Got the victim,|Melissa's, address.
You gonna hide,|or you want to come with me?
How'd you get it?
Melissa had to file|a dockworker's card
with homeland security ...|They had a local address.
Great work,|sergeant detective Korsak.
I think that|we should investigate,
<i>but what do you think?</i>
We're very sorry|for your loss.
It's the first time|I've ever been glad
my father's not aware|of anything.
I wouldn't know how to|tell him about my sister.
And can we ask what|he's suffering from?
A head injury.
Doctors say he probably|won't come back from it.
He was hurt six months ago.|He's a longshoreman.
Can you think of anyone
who might have|wanted to harm your sister?
You ever heard of Paddy Doyle?
Everybody in Southie has.|Why?
Any issues between your father|and Doyle?
Your dad ever mention him|coming around the docks
or the Union hall?
Did she ever mention Doyle's|name in the last few months?
No. Melissa's|a college student.
Actually, she went by her|initials, M.J., at the docks.
What? Nobody called her that.
Why was she at the docks?
She was working|as a casual there.
Last place she was seen alive.
I can't believe|she did this.
Did what, Shannon?
The Union said our dad's|accident was his fault
because he'd been drinking|on the job.
Melissa wouldn't believe it.
She...Was gonna find out|the truth for herself.
- Dr. Isles?|- Yes.
I discovered in the victim's|stomach contents
a micro SD card.
- It's from a camera.|- Video, my guess.
Must have swallowed it|just before she was killed,
and I'll bet|Paddy Doyle wanted it.
That sounds very much|like an assumption.
You think there's|a drug deal on it?
I don't... know.
Nor is it within our|purview to guess.
Please take this up to|detective frost in homicide.
Arguably the most important find|against a notorious mobster,
and I'll be credited with it,
all because you needed help.
Funny, good night, Doctor.
Please don't sit in my chair.
I'm very intrigued by|the assertiveness of your play.
Just giving what I'm getting.
And what does that tell you?
What the hell?!
Wait ... Tommy, don't!
He needs a doctor ... now!
My God, that's Paddy Doyle.
I know who he is.
The bullet seems to have|fractured your clavicle.
Thought your idea of luck
would have been if|had pierced my heart.
The bone prevented the bullet|from hitting a major artery.
Been through this before.|Just need stitching up.
It's not that simple.
You have tissue damage,|vasculature concerns,
- bone fragments.|- Do it...
- Or he dies.|- I'll need his help.
Please ask the guy with the gun|to stop pointing it at him.
Tommy, find me some towels,
bowls, um, hot water.
I'll need to irrigate the wound|before I can suture.
That your boyfriend?
You're holding me hostage.
You think you have any right|to ask me personal questions?
The exit wound is quite large.
It's gonna be difficult|to close.
I don't have anesthetic.
Don't need any.
What happened?|How did you get shot?
Was the woman murdered|at the docks "business," too?
I didn't kill her.
How the hell do you|know this guy anyway?
I'm her father.
Sutton sent over all the|dock surveillance footage.
Found Melissa leaving.
<i>So she did leave|in the middle of her shift.</i>
I wonder why.
No idea. But no one follows her.
Well, it's not like|Doyle's the type
to show up|on surveillance footage.
Anything on the SD card?
Stomach acid did a number on it.
I don't have any audio,|but look at this.
I only got a few frames.
Someone's chasing her.
Yeah, Paddy Doyle.
Oh, we just need one frame|of that bastard's face.
Oh, yay.|Officer helpful's back.
Hey, uh, yeah.|Thanks for bringing that up.
Um, a battery probably|isn't going to help
with the investigation,
so you can just take that down|to evidence.
It's not in the job description
to bust my balls for homicide.
<i>Why doesn't he have to take|sensitivity training?</i>
- He already did.|- Works wonders.
Did some checking|on Richie Black.
Before he wound up|on a ventilator,
he was pretty much|a dockworking stiff.
No criminal record,|not a single tie to Doyle.
No, he works the docks,|Paddy owns the docks ...
there's your connection.
I also got a copy|of his OSHA accident report.
Lab from the E.R.|said his blood alcohol was .10.
Guess he was drinking|on the job.
Yeah, but Melissa didn't believe|he did it.
She went undercover|to prove it.
Maybe she stumbled|across something
she wasn't supposed to.
That alone's enough to get|her killed. Weapons, drugs,
human trafficking ...|It all goes through the docks.
We got to get one of those|dockworkers to talk.
I just wish we didn't|have to wait till tomorrow.
We don't. High tide's at 2:01.|They'll all be there.
How do you know so|much about it?
I had an uncle|who was a stevedore.
I flirted with it|in my younger days.
Decided it wasn't a good fit.
I like my fingers and toes.
So you could have been|a longshoreman.
More than that. I coulda been a contender.
Instead of a bum,|which is what I am!
You all right?
So, what are you,|adopted or something?
How long did you know|you were related to him?
Bishop to d7 captures the rook.
We don't need to talk about it.
You want him to die, dude?
- Shut up!|- Stop!
Now fix him!
He really should be|on an I.V.
His body is working to replace|fluids and white cells.
You look|a lot like your mother.
Who was my mother?
You would like her.
She would like you.
Did she love you?
But you would still like her.
We can't possibly talk|to all these jimokes.
Pick a target.
Oh-ho, look who's back.
Baby, I guess|you want some of this.
Oh, get your hands|off your junk!
This detective's a lady.
Thank you, kind sir,|for defending my honor.
No, I merely defended|an individual
who happens to be female|from an inappropriate harasser
who happens to be male.
Speaking of which,
why don't you try|to get through to the gorillas
and I'll talk to her.
Hey. Boston Homicide.
Can I ask you a couple questions|about M.J. Black?
I don't know anything.
Even if I did,
Union rep told us not to talk.
Whose hand is this?
Because I found it on my ass.
Got one more|where that came from.
- Do you?|- Yes.
- Here's what I got.|- Aah.
- Hey, let go!|- Freakin' lezzie.
- What the hell happened?!|- What? He grabbed my ass.
- This scumbag had the nerve to put|his filthy hands on you? - Just one.
That's all I need to take you|in, you dumb son of a bitch.
We got another dead body.
It's Paddy Doyle's|right-hand man.
He and Paddy got kicked out|of grammar school together.
They've been partners in crime|ever since.
Maybe they had a falling out.
I don't see an ice pick.
How many shell casings|are there?
They're still counting them.
This just ... It feels like an|ambush more than an execution.
This guy spends 50 years|attached to Paddy's hip,
and then winds up dead?
I don't think|Brennan was the target.
And, either his blood|got on Paddy's shoes,
or Paddy took a bullet himself.
I'll have CSRU|check the blood trail.
See if there's more|than one type.
So we talking mob war?
Yeah, maybe,|for control of the docks.
Ohh, what the hell|is pike doing here?
Where's Dr. Isles?
I have no idea,
nor do I understand|your question's relevance
given our nearly|identical credentials.
Just tell us what|you're doing here.
Dr. Isles was unreachable.
- Frost.|- Yeah, I got it. Go.
It's discrimination,|pure and simple.
The Governor felt he needed|to appoint a "woman."
Once again, I'm penalized|for being a white male.
That's probably Jane.
Let it go.
Why did you even come here?
You could have paid off any|number of doctors for treatment.
<i>But they wouldn't|have been you.</i>
That's supposed|to warm my heart?
<i>Because it doesn't.</i>
I've seen what|you're capable of.
I saw what you did|to that young woman!
I didn't do anything to her.
I don't kill women or children
or anyone who doesn't|deserve it.
Oh, so even you have standards?
Regardless of what you think|of me, Maura,
in my world,|I'm a man of honor...
And of my word.
I'm being framed.
I don't believe you.
You're the chief|medical examiner.
Use your science.
It'll tell you if I'm|guilty or not.
Where are you going?
To finish what|someone else started.
- Jane.|- Where is he? Where's Doyle?
Gone. 15 minutes ago.
Paddy was shot, right?
A bullet fractured|his clavicle.
He lost a lot of blood,
but the injuries|weren't life-threatening.
How'd you know?
Well, because I just came|from a crime scene
where his top lieutenant|wasn't so lucky.
Do you know what happened?
No, but for Paddy Doyle|to take a bullet,
somebody he trusted|must have given him up.
God, it looks like an E.R.|in here.
Maura had to fix him|at gunpoint!
He told me that the shooting|was over business.
So Melissa's murder was under|the category of pleasure?
No, he. He said somebody|was trying to frame him.
That he doesn't kill women|or children or innocents.
Of course he told|you that, Maura.
He's not gonna confess|to the one person in the world
that he gives a damn about.
A mob boss like Paddy Doyle|couldn't rule the streets
this long just on fear.
He lives by a code.|That's why he has respect.
Are you finished?
He has a heart, Jane.
I'm serious! You didn't see|the way he looked at her.
He may be a bad guy,|but he loves his daughter.
All of his victims|were gangsters ...
No women, no children.
That we know of.
No forensic evidence links Paddy|to any of these killings.
None of his DNA was recovered|from Melissa, either.
Yeah, that's part|of his legend.
He may go down for racketeering|or tax evasion like Capone,
but murder? No way.
He isn't usually this messy.
You think he's slipping?
He told Maura|he was being framed.
Nobody's stupid enough|or suicidal enough
to frame him for murder.
Yeah, but it would be brilliant
if somebody could pull it off.
You know, murder Melissa,
make it look like Doyle did|the deed ... case closed.
Hey, Frost, you get any audio|of that SD card yet?
Oh, whiz kid's|finally met his match ...
a half-digested SD card.
- Hey, if you want to try...|- Oh, God.
Can somebody please sign|for this?
<i>And torture the poor guy?|He's here for you, Jane.</i>
- No, he's not.|- Oh, yes, he is.
<i>This guy hates me.|I'll show you.</i>
On your desk, Rizzoli?
Uh, no. I-I'll take it,|but thank you...
Officer Duncan. Thanks.
Actually, this is kind of heavy.
I could take it down|to evidence for you if you want.
- That's okay.|- No, it ...
- No, it's okay. I got it.|- It's okay.
I got it!|Thank you.
- Stop.|- Love.
All right, what do|we have in here?
We got a stereo, a CD player,
Oh, yeah, that looks modified.|Check it out, Frost.
Axl's time in lockup|is almost up.
Hopefully it's put him|in a mood to talk.
I've...Looked through|your report
on Melissa Joy Black.
I didn't see a reference
to an examination of|the victim's teeth or gums.
Cause of death was quite clear,|as is my report.
I didn't feel the need|to floss her molars.
Specifically, I am concerned|about the post-mortem bruising
around the victim's mouth,|here and here.
Hmm.|Which I noted on page 27.
But, uh, it suggests
that the perpetrator applied|force against the victim's mouth
during the attack.
And what's your point?
Detective Rizzoli's|investigation indicated
that this was|a very brave young woman
going undercover on her own.
I don't make my rulings
based on a victim's|personality traits.
Well, neither ...|neither do I.
But I would consider|that such a woman
may have bitten her killer.
I want to see the body.
Already released|to the funeral home
per her family's request.
Without my approval?
I'm a medical examiner, too.
<i>No, you are an assistant|medical examiner.</i>
You work for me,|Dr. Pike.
It figures that someone like you|would try and pull rank.
I went to Harvard,|you know that?
Or I will assign you to a town
that will make Western Mass|feel like Paris.
You have one hour
to get that body back,|understand?
Was there any talk|about M.J.,
anybody following her around?
I ain't saying nothin'.
Especially to no dumb bitch.
Hey! Show some respect,|piece of crap!
Yeah, man boobs.
Your little grab ass|at the docks...?
That's indecent assault|and battery on a police officer.
You're looking at seven|and a half years.
You got 30 seconds
before we officially|press charges.
Remember Melissa Black.
She was murdered,|and we think you know why.
No, man.|I barely knew the broad.
You sure as hell|knew her father,
Richie Black, didn't you?
She was his kid?
Richie was|a stand-up guy.
He wasn't afraid to roll up|his sleeves like the rest of us.
He had my vote.
- He was running to be your Union rep?|- Yeah.
Safety on the docks|been going to hell,
and Richie was the only one|taking it on.
It looked like he was gonna win|when he had his accident.
Who was his competition?
It's the guy who won ... Ray.
Maybe Paddy had something to do|with Richie's "accident."
Paddy and Ray|would be good pals.
Look at Ray's rap sheet.
Put his 6-year-old|on the Union payroll.
Poor Richie. That's not|a guy to run against.
Melissa must have thought|that Paddy and Richie
had something to do|with her father's accident.
So she spies on Ray to prove it.
You have any footage of Ray|the day that Melissa left early?
Looks like Ray left|mid-shift, too.
Just a few minutes|before Melissa did.
Go to the dock|parking-lot camera.
Ray's got nice wheels.
No way can that guy afford an|AMG on a longshoreman's salary.
Pull up the footage|of when Melissa left.
There she is.
Leaving right behind him.
So she wasn't|being followed.
No, she was following Ray.
Ray's wife she's at|the docks today.
Why? They don't work|when the tide's low.
You ever shake hands with the|guy? It's like a marshmallow.
Ray doesn't work much at all.
Sensitivity trainer.|I was gonna call you.
And tell me that she failed|to complete her training...
You can just forget about|winning that extra "c" day,
sergeant detective Korsak.
That's why you've been|all over this?
So you can get|an extra day off?
I also happen to feel|very strongly
about the teaching|of tolerance.
Really? Because I just got out|of a half-hour meeting
with Mr. Dwyer, who's lodging|a formal complaint
about the abusive treatment|he received while in custody.
Did you tell Mr. Dwyer|he had moobs?
Yes. Yes, I did.
And I am completely ashamed|by the cruelty of my words.
It was inappropriate and unkind
No charges will be|filed, Mr. Dwyer,
and I do hope that you can|accept my sincerest apologies.
I-I guess so.
I-I do have every intention
of finishing my sensitivity|training, asap.
Thank you, detective.
Uh, now, if you'll excuse us,
we are in pursuit of a suspect.
Oh, of course.
Quite a performance.
Incredibly sensitive,|don't you think?
You're lucky|they hadn't begun
the embalming process yet.
I don't know why you're not|doing this yourself.
Because it's your case,|Dr. Pike.
I'm not overriding it,|I'm... expanding upon it.
Isn't that a fine euphemism
for insulting|my professionalism.
This isn't personal,|Dr. Pike.
It certainly feels|that way to me.
I'd focus on the maxillary|central incisors,
as well as the canines.
I'm not seeing anything at all.
She has a bit of an underbite.
Check the mandibulars, as well.
I think I found a particle.
It appears to be skin.
add this as an addendum|to your original autopsy report.
I don't need your pity.|This was your find.
But your autopsy.|You take the credit.
Boston police!|Open up!
<i>He's not whimpering.</i>
No, it was horrible.
Oh, my God! Poor Ray!|Oh, my God!
Do you remember anything?|Anything you saw or you heard?
I just heard screaming.|I just heard screaming.
Looks like he was|tortured first.
Two of his fingers are broken.
Yeah, and eight of them aren't,|so he must have talked.
The question is,|who'd he give up?
Did you get the DNA results|back on the skin yet?
The DNA results.
On the skin particle that you|found on Melissa's teeth.
Do you have them?
It's too soon to tell.
But I'm fairly certain
that I know|who Melissa's killer is,
even without them.
Yeah, well, me too, but...
It was a rush to judgment, Jane,|but science is unbiased.
The impression|made by this bite
matches Melissa's|dental records.
So the DNA results are|a formality at this point.
- This man killed Melissa.|- Ray?
Paddy Doyle was telling|the truth.
Paddy Doyle runs those docks.
All right? Ray just could have|been following orders ...
It's Frost. He says he|has something big
that we both need to see.
What did you find?
<i>Melissa hid this|behind her CD player.</i>
It's not an amplifier.|It's a wireless receiver.
So she was uploading|everything she recorded.
Backing it up wirelessly.
She was also recording onto|the SD card she swallowed.
Frost, tell me there's footage.
40 years the Fed's been trying|to get Paddy and his gang on tape.
Think a 22-year-old girl|got the job done?
She's following Ray.
The forensic evidence proves|that he killed her.
Yeah, but it doesn't prove|that Paddy wasn't behind it.
Ray's meeting somebody.
That's a clear shot of Ray.
Okay, now we just need one|of Paddy.
- Frost, can you blow him up?|- I can try.
<i>Get it done.|You screw this up...</i>
Can you do anything|to the audio?
<i>I'm not paying you|for nothing, okay?</i>
<i>You push them faster.</i>
<i>I don't give a damn|about safety regulations.</i>
- <i>All right|- That's not his voice.</i>
Is that Sutton?
Yeah, looks like Ray ditched|the old mob for the new mob,
But it's the same racket.
Faster the dockworkers unload,
the more ships they can get in,|the more money they make.
- <i>Hey! What are you doing in here?!|- Get her!</i>
It was Sutton.|Paddy was telling the truth.
He didn't order|Melissa's death.
I'm thinking Ray gave up|Sutton before he died.
Then you'd better find Sutton|before my father does.
Sutton's office|is on the sixth floor.
I don't know!
Frost, the stairs!
I got it.
Is there any other way|out of this place?
- He told me I was gonna die slow.|- He's right.
You will, in jail for the rest|of your miserable life.
It's a private elevator.|Damn it!
Damn, he's getting away again.
At least we got our bad guy.
Yeah, one of them.
I'll put out a BOLO.
Hey, ma.|How was your trip?
Oh, I lost 85 bucks|on the nickel slots.
But look at all this|really great stuff I got.
Hey! Anybody need a robe?
Ma...Did you take this|from the little fridge?
They refill it, Jane.
This isn't free, ma. They're|gonna charge your credit card.
I paid $109 a night|for that room.
Really? I'm gonna send it back.
Four hours|of sensitivity training,
and I passed|with flying colors.
- Congratulations.|- Did you learn anything?
Yes. I am an equal-opportunity|offender.
Okay, are they gonna|charge me for this?
How did you get this number?
I'm one of the good guys|compared to this new way
of doing business.
I know you know that.
I'm not sure I do.|Where are you?
You know I'm not telling you.
Well, that's too bad.
Why don't you tell me|about Melissa Joy Black?
Back when I ran the docks,|we didn't kill women...
Or hurt hardworking people|like her father, Richie.
Well, that was ruled|an accident.
Check the DNA on|the blood alcohol test
they said was Richie's.
Take care of my daughter.
I can take care of myself.
I do think he loves you.
It doesn't mean|I have to love him back.
Oh! What happened|to the door?!
Tommy forgot his keys.
Tommy, you know|better than that.
I make a suggestion?
What ... you know|how to play chess?
Yeah, who do you|think taught him?
Tommy's not the only Rizzoli|with a beautiful mind.