Detail office. Lester briefs Bunk, Kima, Prez, and Beadie on their plan for surveilling the Esmeralda: Prez will be watching the outbound truck gate; Bunk will be at another corner; Beadie and Lester will be in the office, watching the computer; which leaves Kima to go to the terminal. Kima pipes up to say that while the dock guys don't know her face, she still can't "hang down there," and suggests borrowing a power truck from Narcotics and heading down with it in a hard hat. Lester nods. Prez asks what if there aren't any shenanigans with the Esmeralda, and Lester deadpans, "Then, tragically, you will have wasted another day in a life you've already misspent in the service of the city of Baltimore." Chuckles all around. Ho ho ho, Baltimore sucks.
Port of Baltimore. Nick strides up to Frank, giving him a slip of paper he passes straight on to Horseface. Looks like Prez's day won't be wasted after all. "Nothing's alive in these, right?" checks Horseface, not especially interested either way. Frank instructs, "If they don't go hot to a truck, you go back in the stacks and bang on them to make sure." So...they might potentially still be assisting in human trafficking, but at least now they're going to do it with their eyes open. Horseface takes off, and Frank asks how Nick's doing. Nick says, "Good." Frank studies him a moment, and notes, "You ain't been working much." Nick cocks his head to the side, by way of answer, and goes to leave before he can say anything that might give him away, Frank calling after him, "Stay close, Nick. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Fortunately, that still gives Nick quite a lot of leeway.
Cemetery. A lovely tenor sings for D'Angelo. The camera pans across the flowers on the coffin and over to Donette (with Tyrell in her lap), Brianna, and Stringer behind her, squeezing her shoulder. Arranged at various other locations around the grave are Bodie, Poot, Prop Joe, and Shamrock. Brianna cries steadily but silently, dabbing occasionally at her cheeks. As the song ends, Poot asks Bodie, "You did the 221?" Bodie blinks and nods. The camera gives us a shot of the building, as sculpted from carnations (in "hard" colours like yellow, red, and powder blue). Poot pronounces it "tight." An attendant removes the arrangement from the coffin, and everyone steps forward, each dropping a single red rose on the lid. Rest in peace, D'Angelo. Here's hoping you can be a greater Gatsby on the other side.
Later, mourners disperse to various waiting cars. Prop Joe finds Stringer and tells him, "Sorry for the loss. Y'all sent him off right, though. As good a homecoming as I been to." And, presumably, he's seen some, as Stringer observes. As they move on to Stringer's car, Prop Joe falls in step with him, adding, "Of course, this is neither the time nor the place, but I thought I might get at you for a moment. Got a proposition here." Stringer sends Shamrock ahead, pausing briefly to share a meaningful look with Donette. Or, at least, with Donette's opaque sunglasses. As they move on, Prop Joe tells Stringer it's well known that Westside dope has been weak for some time, while the Barksdale organization is controlling "some of the best real estate in the city -- the Terrace, the low-rises, the avenue corners." Stringer suggests that Prop Joe tell Stringer something he doesn't already know. Prop Joe chuckles and gets to it: "My shit is right, String. I got dope coming straight into Baltimore, and the shit be raw. Eighty-five, ninety percent. And you know it's true -- you got half the Westside coming over to Fallsway twice a day because Eastside dope be kicking the shit out of Westside dope." Stringer, remaining blank, says, "You connected?" Prop Joe says that his supply is "straight off the damn boat." The only thing he's even getting from New York is cocaine: "Thing is, y'all got the best territory, and no kind of product. I got the best product, but could stand a little more territory, so you see where this thing need to go." Stringer reminds Prop Joe that "Avon fought real hard for them Towers," but Prop Joe shrugs, "This shit is just business, String. Buy for a dollar, sell for two. That's all it need be. You got the Towers, I got what goes in them. Later for all that bullshit." Damn, this guy is such a consensus builder! Reaching out across political divisions! He's like the drug-dealing Bill Clinton! Stringer doesn't like it (or plays it like he doesn't), but says he'll talk to Avon. As the business discussion draws to a close, cars pull off past D'Angelo's coffin as it goes into the ground.