At Homicide, Jay sits, chastened, as Daniels stands imperiously over him. "Let me ask you: who exactly am I working all these dead girls for?" Daniels demands. "The Homicide unit, right? The same Homicide unit that can't put two and two together and pick up a phone, leaving me to read it a day and a half later in the Baltimore Sun." Jay flares his nostrils, looking so miserable to be in the position of taking shit instead of dishing it out, as usual. Daniels takes a moment to swipe the rage spittle from the corners of his mouth, marshals his strength, and asks what Jay took from the scene of Glekas's murder. Jay says that they have photos, latent prints, and spent shell casings. He pauses a moment, and then squeezes his eyes shut, muttering, "Fuck!" At a normal voice: "They cleaned everything else, huh." Daniels smiles bitterly: "Even for a supremely fucked-up police department, this takes the prize." You know, I have to agree. Jay looks down miserably. Daniels trudges to a table in the corner and drops to perch on the corner, crossing his arms as he asks, of Ziggy, "How'd the kid play it?" Jay says that he signed a full statement, explaining that it was over stolen cars. Daniels asks whether Jay thinks Ziggy will say any more, and Jay sighs, "He's been processed and assigned a PD," so that if Daniels wants to talk to him, he'll have to go through Ziggy's lawyer. See, again: this is why it would have been handy, once Jay learned that Ziggy's last name is "Sobotka," if he'd called Daniels in to meet him, you know? Daniels offers a world-champion eye-roll and trudges toward the door. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant," says Jay lamely. "It's my bad." Oh, sure -- it's just a law-enforcement an air ball! No big deal! Daniels doesn't dignify that, rolling his eyes again and stalking out disgustedly.

In an interrogation room, Herc and Carver are trying to work over Eton. As you might expect, he is more than equal to their line of questioning and is basically acting like they're not even there. When Carver lights a cigarette and blows the smoke in his face, Eton rouses himself to look offended, but keeps his name a tantalizing secret.

In another interrogation room, Beadie and Kima are with Ilona, who also sits silent when asked her name. Kima presses, and Ilona drawls something that starts with "Lesbianca." Clever?

In yet another interrogation room, Fitz and McNulty ask Sergei to state his name. Sergei still looks a little pink from his exertions upon his arrest, and also doesn't say anything. McNulty sits back smugly and says that, for now, they'll just call him Boris. Sergei crabs, again, that he always gets called Boris, but doesn't choose the obvious recourse to address the situation.