Benton the bloodhound sniffs out the crime scene and connects with Louis, the cop in charge. Intelligently, Benton blabs that he lives just one block away. Louis elicits a half-assed (so, given Benton, actually fairly substantial) apology from Wallace for calling his precinct the dirtiest one in the city. Then, Louis informs us that Valerie was beaten to death with the killer's own two fists, and that evidence exists that indicates sexual assault. "There's one thing I can't figure," Louis snarls. "She lived in Brooklyn Heights. What's she doing here in the middle of the night?" Silly Louis! Sluts don't have curfews. Louis leaves a brooding Wallace alone.
Wallace meets his friend at the bar and asks him to fill in the blanks from the previous night, beginning with the fight they watched together. Bit-Part gives a knowing grimace. "I used to drink," he says. "This is the scary part -- checking the grille of the car the next morning to make sure it doesn't have any blood on it." Okay, never done that. Wallace sips a shot of liquor -- oh, he must be out of sorts today if he's not guzzling it properly -- and sighs. Bit-Part recalls Wallace insulting thug Barry Lambino and then making eyes at his girlfriend Valerie all night. "You shouldn't go anywhere when you're like that," Bit-Part intones. "I've known you a long time, and I've seen all your moods, from dark to darkest. Last night, I sensed something else." Wallace is completely freaked about this. Bit-Part spots Wallace's bloody, scraped knuckles and asks what happened. Wallace stammers that he thinks he hit a metal chair, but isn't totally sure. "Get a lawyer," chuckles Bit-Part, showing extreme consideration. This plotline might resonate more if I wasn't already anxious to have Wallace locked up in jail for life.
Hildy and Brooke confer at the Ledger. Brooke says she can't believe Wallace was so stupid, to which Hildy replies, "She's hot and sexy and in the movies. Does Arthur Miller ring a bell?" But Brooke is referring to Wallace's disgusting performance with Ms. Copy Boy, shouting and throwing pens. "He looks guilty," Brooke sighs, looking morosely down at the table. Hildy's surprised that Brooke is so untrusting. The Ghost of Cancellation Future has fashioned a crude sign that reads, "NBC: Nail Benton's Carcass," and we wave it while drinking beer and singing sea shanties.
Si calls Wallace into the conference room and introduces him to Sahira Ondaatje, the paper's legal representative. She giggles that they know each other. "Wallace once came over for homemade curry," Sahira says, taking food/sex euphemisms to a whole new level. Si winks that he'd like to try her curry, but Sahira says it would be too spicy for him, even if it is just Benton's sloppy seconds. She then cuts to the chase -- the legal plan, from the Ledger standpoint, is to establish Benton as a simple spectator at the boxing match and not a reporter on assignment. After all, Wallace never filed any copy afterward. Benton can't figure out how that strategy benefits him. "It keeps the Ledger out of it, and lets us stand by you as we would a trusted member of the family," Sahira says. Wallace is appalled that the paper is trying to save its own ass instead of helping save his. Si quietly reminds Wallace that the more the paper distances itself from the situation, the less likely it is that investigators will learn of his mental state that night, when he yelled at three female staffers -- and the more likely Si can fire Wally's fat ass and pretend it's for something else. Sahira thinks that Wally's rant looks like he had a vendetta against women that night. Wallace gets up and walks out, anxious to find his own attorney.