NYPD Blue
These Shoots Are Made For Joaquin

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These Shoots Are Made For Joaquin

Gay John sidles up to Sip: "There's a man waiting for you...he's making gestures like he's addressing a crowd...and I think he said something about being uncrowned royalty." What a weird thing to say! We get a shot of a goober in glasses passing his hands above a flock of invisible Lilliputians, and Ricky and Sip sidle over to him, raising eyebrows and casting skyward lances as they do. The man says, "Gentlemen. Do I have a fungo-bat in my hand?" Wha? His name is Preston Ross, no relation to the director Preston Sturges, and he's from the Latent Prints department. Get it? "Prince" -- "prints"! Arf arf. John looks suitably mortified. Preston continues, "I have a chart right here. Do we have somewhere I can post them?" Sip and Ricky waggle their eyebrows some more in a you-can-post-yer-chart-right-here-bub gesture, and lead him to a room. Preston is a freaky dude, but he knows how to read fingerprints. Of three sets on the gun, he feels it is the greasy, third set that belongs to the shooter of Joaquin's brother. During his little prints presentation, Sip and Ricky change their expressions from dubious to impressed. "Don't thank me," says Preston. "Thank the technology." Ricky says, "You thank the technology for us. You probably understand it better." Well duh, he is the expert. Preston, all overcome with the tenderness Ricky and Sip have shown him, says, "I'll just have a moment." What the! Am I watching Ally McBeal all of a sudden? Ricky says, "Have a doughnut." And Preston the Latent Prince repeats the phrase with such gravity that he's either aware of what a cliché it is for cops to eat doughnuts all the time, or that no one has ever extended a kind gesture to him in his line of work. Have a doughnut, indeed. Have a doughnut, everyone!

After some establishing shots of the street, Joaquin and The Widow Mrs. Enrique enter the station. She has her eyes cast on the floor and looks weak. Joaquin is very protective of her. Di and Kirky shake her hand and say they are sorry for her loss. The Widow Mrs. Enrique says she recognizes each of their voices, ever though she didn't speak to them at the scene -- she had locked herself in the bathroom, Joaquin helpfully remembers for us. He also says he tried to shoot "that son of a bitch" who killed Mr. Enrique but "that son of a bitch" got away. Okay. Sip asks Ricky to fetch photos of possible suspects as The Widow Mrs. Enrique says, a little brusquely, "So, what do you wanna ask me?" Oh, no questions ma'am. You and Joaquin seem just about as innocent as anyone could be. Not! "Let me see if I can collect myself...I was in the kitchen getting his Maalox and cereal." What? Together? Gross! "...When I heard the shots I came running into the living room and saw the killer trying to go through my husband's pockets. When he saw me, he ran. I didn't get a good look at him...he was a black guy, big, around thirty." O.J. strikes again! Oh right, O.J. isn't thirty. Sip comes over and asks her to take a look at some photos. Without looking at him, The Widow Mrs. Enrique says darkly, "I don't recognize your voice." Then she reluctantly agrees, but says, "I still don't waive my right not to testify." Kirky leads Joaquin away to another part of the office and The Widow Mrs. Enrique shuffles through the photos -- of big, black men, we can assume. Then she explodes: "What the hell is HE doing here!" It's a photo of some neighborhood guy. "He's a bum who goes through people's trash and sleeps in alleys. He walks with a limp. The guy who shot my husband took off like a jackrabbit. What are you people DOING with the taxpayers' money!" Ding ding ding! That bell going off is both mine, triggered by the phrase "you people," and every cop on this case for being insulted by The Widow Mrs. Enrique. Make that every cop on the NYPD. Hold on there, Widow. John shoots her a look and Ricky mutters, "So much for ground balls." The Widow stands up and begins to speechify: "Before Rico got shot, the phone rang three times. The last time I made him answer...the last words I heard him say were 'kiss my ass, die you dirty creep.' He wasn't like that often!" Joaquin grabs her arm and says, "I'm taking her home!" His parting shot to John as they exit is a muttered "...take the whole day off work...." Sip says, "He's a candidate for the homicide," and Ricky, Kirky and Di all break their heads off at the neck by nodding too vigorously.

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