Cole: Your brother-in-law Lenny Finkelstein, was selling stolen morphine. He had one third of the shipment.
Mickey: Old news, kid. I don't know anything about what Lenny was up to.
Cole: So I'm supposed to believe that you don't know what happened to the rest of the shipment?
Mickey: Lenny . . . God rest his soul . . . was a moron. He was family though and I haven't made a beef about that so count yourself lucky, kid. The H is a filthy habit and I don't condone it. The simple solution would be to have all the dope fiends put down.
Cole: So you don't know where he got the morphine?
Mickey: Kid, ask a question you might get an answer to.
Cole: We believe there's a link between a group of Marines and the morphine stolen from the SS Coolridge. One of those Marines was shot to death in a club last night.
Mickey: I wouldn't know anything about that.
Cole: So you haven't heard anything about what happened at the 111 Club?
Mickey: What can I say, kid? I'm shocked that, in the land of opportunity, Uncle Sam's finest feel the need to resort to crime. It's a dangerous business. I can attest to that. I'd recommend they get out of the life quickly.
Roy: A few negros saying goodbye on the sidewalk will never make the papers, Mickey, but we had a judge in Pasadena say adios the other day. Prominent white people popping their clogs makes everyone nervous.
Mickey: You know dope has never been my thing, Roy. It's always been for schmendricks like Jack D and Jimmy Utley. But I'll ask around and I'll get back to you. Hey, you boys want some lunch? How about a drink?
Roy: We'll take a rain check on that. Come on, Cole, we're leaving.
Man: We have to cut that dope. It looks bad with people dying.
Mickey: We have to get the rest of it. There's no way of watering down the stuff in those little packages. We have to put the squeeze on those guys and get the rest of it.
Man: They don't seem the type that frighten that easy.
Mickey: We'll see.
Cole: What's going on?
Roy: That fucking rat Stoker has gone public about Brenda.
Cole: Who is Brenda?
Roy: Brenda is L.A.'s most famous madam.
Cole: And everyone know it?
Roy: Of course everyone knows. Brenda pays her way.
Cole: Are we cops or a collection agency?
Roy: Whores have been around since the Bible. Our job is to keep it off the street so Joe Citizen and his wife can stroll around unmolested.
Cole: Then we should change the law.
Roy: Are you out of your mind? Every politician in America is against prostitution, except when they're using them.
Cole: So where does Stoker come in?
Roy: He objects to the L.A.P.D. and the administration taking its cut.
Cole: Is everyone in on this?
Roy: Yeah, and that's the problem. From a little acorn does a large tree grow. He could bring the whole thing crashing down on us.
Colmyer: Aren't you supposed to be working the . . .
Cole: Sir, do you know which Robbery detectives are working the Army surplus theft from the Coolridge?
Colmyer: Caldwell and McManus. I saw Caldwell in the squad room not long ago if you want to speak to him.
Cole: Thank you, sir. We'll do that.
Roy: This way.
Cole: Harry. You got a minute?
Harry: Sure, Cole. Anytime.
Cole: You been working the docks robbery on the SS Coolridge?
Harry: Yeah, that's right.
Roy: So how do you see it?
Harry: Inside job. Either the guys working the wharves or some of the guys on the ship.
Roy: What else was taken apart from the morphine?
Harry: Case of BARs. Case of Thompsons. Crate of Valor smokes.
Cole: Homicide just recovered three BARs and a mountain of cigarettes at a shooting at the 111 Club.
Harry: No kidding? I better get over there.
Cole: Do you have a copy of the manifest?
Harry: Yeah. Here it is.
Cole: So how do we connect the docks robbery to the mess at the 111 Club? This is the crate we recovered. Half a million syrettes loose on the streets of L.A. Here's our backroom arsenal from the 111 Club. Enough to arm three companies. Some of these guys are from my old unit. They must have finally shipped home. Kelso, Sheldon . . . McGoldrick.
Roy: McGoldrick was on the boat?
Harry: Sure. We checked him out.
Cole: McGoldrick bought the 111 Club, Harry. His brains are all over the bar.
Roy: Looks like whoever stole the dope is getting muscled.
Cole: By whom?
Roy: Dragna or Cohen. They control the hop.
Officer: Detectives! KGPL is going crazy. Shots fired at 1384 North Bronson . . . some guy with an automatic spraying a Hollywood bus. They want every car. Go!
Cole: You know the way. You can drive.
Roy: Do we know where we're going?
Dispatch: All units, officers need help at 1384 North Bronson. 1384 North Bronson, shots fired. Any units to handle identify. Code Three.