Bunk returns to the lab, where Ron has his results. But first, Ron would like to note the oddity of a victim supposedly affiliated with a series of homeless murders who has an actual address. Yeah, funny thing about that, huh? Anyhow, the DNA pulled from the scene matches that of one Christopher Partlow. If Bunk were feeling bad about pulling a fast one on Ron, he certainly isn't now. "A lesser man might get pissy because you jumped the line, Bunk," Ron passively-aggressively observes. "Me? I remember Partlow's name from all those cases last year. Congrats. But don't fuck with me like this again." Let Bunk get this conviction, baby, and he won't need to.
Freamon is paying a visit to the U.S. Attorney -- you know, the guy who got into a pissing match with Carcetti about who got to put Clay Davis on trial and ended up losing out because State's Attorney Bond wanted all the glory for himself? Well, Freamon's gone hat in hand to ask the U.S. Attorney to bring the full force of the federal government down on the newly acquitted Clay Davis -- and he's brought the evidence that Clay fudged some details on his loan application with him. Considering that Clay is unlikely to enter a plea on such a charge and federal juries tend to be less...oh, let's say forgiving than their Baltimore-based counterparts, the state senator could be facing a lot of years in prison. Or he would be, if the U.S. Attorney were inclined to pick up the case. "You had cancelled checks," the U.S. Attorney says, rather grumpily. "You had the bank account. You had his bag man on the stand." Freamon notes they also had a city jury inclined to be swayed by Clay's pretty, pretty words. "You know, we've been gathering string on Clay Davis for six years, detective," the U.S. Attorney responds with mounting irritation. "Six years, we've had a file open on that shakedown artist. And now, after you city sons of bitches have managed in a single week to transform Clay Fucking Davis into Martin Luther King Jr., you now come to me with this? Which you had in your back pocket all along? Looking for the federal jury of mostly white faces to remedy the problem? Well, I'm sorry." And with that, the U.S. Attorney pushes the incriminating file back to Lester. Meeting adjourned.
At Homicide, McNulty is showing off his mad two-finger typing skills when Bunk walks up and deposits in front of him the list he pulled off Omar. "Omar? Dead?" McNulty asks. Omar! Dead! More to the point, Omar was hunting down Marlo and his crew, so perhaps this list might prove of use to McNulty and Freamon. At any rate, Bunk tells McNulty to consider it payback for expediting his labwork in that other case, especially since it puts the finger on Chris Partlow. In fact, Bunk is on his way to get a warrant for Chris's arrest right now. Yup -- ain't nothing gonna stop Bunk from serving up some justice, Moreland-style. Nothing at al. Except for McNulty, who asks that he maybe wait just a tick before getting that warrant, since it might muck up the investigation he and Freamon have going. "How long?" Bunk demands. "Because this is an honest, fucking murder prosecution here." Oh, Bunk -- they should be handing you out to kids after they visit their doctor because you are one big sucker. Nevertheless, McNulty promises to run it by Freamon, and congratulates Bunk on his successful case. "No shucking, no jiving," Bunk notes. "Just good ol' police work. How about that, Jimmy?" McNulty notes that, without his fake serial killer, Bunk might not have the DNA tests to put away that case. Of course, one might also point out that if McNulty wasn't tying up police resources with made-up crimes, maybe the lab work gets done on the alley beating case anyhow. Which I'm pointing right now. Because I'll be goddamned if McNulty gets an ounce of credit for all the crap he's pulled this season.