Sam heads out to the scene of the crime, looking to see if there's any possible lead the cops missed. There is -- and she's sitting in a window across the street, watching Sam's every move. Turns out the lady -- whom we'll call Ol' Missus Eyewitness -- likes to sit and smoke by the window using the ashtray her granddaughter gave her. ("She loves to come over and see all the butts in there," Ol' Missus Eyewitness brags. "She says, 'Nana uses it.'" "Beautiful story," Sam sighs. "You should write a letter to the Surgeon General.") That gives her an unobstructed vantage point of the AAA Check Cashing office, and oh, the things Ol' Missus Eyewitness has seen -- namely, two uniformed officers escorting the late Mr. Trent into the check-cashing office. Guess that explains why the bulletproof glass was so ineffective at keeping the store's employees from getting shot.
At the hospital, Hunt is sitting at June's bedside, reading a news story about Skylab to her, as she lies there unconscious. Presumably, reading her a report from last night's Mets game would prove to be too depressing -- 1973 and 2008 have more in common than we might have thought. Sam appears to tell Hunt his latest discovery about the uniforms who accompanied Trent to the scene of the crime. But first he asks how June is doing. "The same," Hunt says grimly, before nailing Sam with a solid right cross. Let the Manly Display of Brawling begin! Sam punches Gene and Gene kicks Sam, and soon they're rolling about the hospital room like a couple of guys in a WWE main event. Soon, both are bloodied and sitting at the foot of June's bed having a heart to heart. In some countries, this constitutes a marriage.
"I always liked June," Hunt says as he dabs at his swollen lip. "Truth be told, she'd probably make a good cop." That's probably the highest form of compliment Hunt can give. One might note that he didn't pay it to Sam. "I only know one way to police," Sam says, perhaps a bit defensively. "So do I, " replies Hunt, passing his flask over to Sam. Aw, they're bonding -- but not for long, after Sam suggests two uniformed officers are involved in this particular caper. "How can you, the keeper of Aladdin's cave, question the existence of dirty cops just because, you know, you don't like it?" Sam demands, after Hunt protests this line of investigation. "I'm not turning the spotlight on my own department," Hunt declares, adding a slap to the back of Sam's skull for emphasis. "No," Sam replies. "You're just going to coerce testimony and set up suspects just to close the case." He pops Hunt in the jaw to drive home his point. Let the Manly Display of Brawling resume! At least until a nurse wanders by and wants to know what two bloodied gentlemen are doing wrestling in the Greco-Roman fashion on her hospital floor. "Police," Hunt and Sam says, simultaneously flashing their badges. Oh, in that case, gentlemen, carry on.