The back room, emptied of all its contents, is unrecognizable and kind of creepy in its anonymity. No one says anything, and Avon and Stringer don't move, as McNulty performs a cursory glance around for any weapons. Daniels cuffs a co-operative Avon. Stringer waits, with his back obediently turned to McNulty, who dismisses him: "Catch you later." Stringer and Avon exchange a look, and then Avon's led off, shrugging. McNulty pauses at the door -- to, if this were a lesser cop show, offer one last parting quip -- but decides that "catch you later" will actually get it done today, and leaves.
Daniels leads Avon down a darkened back staircase. McNulty stays at the top and, in a reversal on the moment between Poot and Bodie at the squat, Daniels, at the bottom, beckons McNulty with his head; after a long moment, McNulty takes the two bags of cash from the safe and trots downstairs.
Detail office. Lester is still studying Prez's chicken-stained newspaper, and tacks it up on the bulletin board, following the relevant area on the map with his finger. Prez rolls up and takes note with a smirk. Sydnor appears on Lester's other side to report, "Barksdale's wearing bracelets." Prez asks whether Wee-Bey and Little Man have turned up, but Lester says neither one has. He goes back to the board, finds Avon's old boxing card, and tacks an index card under it, showing Avon's arrest date. As the camera pans over the board with all the mug shots, street and real names, and status cards, Sydnor murmurs, "This is the best work I ever did. I never did a case like this." His voice breaks as he adds, "But it's not enough. I gotta go back to Auto tomorrow morning." The camera glides across Wallace's face as Sydnor sadly concludes, "I just feel like this just ain't finished." Lester, knowing exactly how he feels, comes over to shake his hand respectfully, and moves on. Prez looks over and gives him a nod, lingering at the boards as he thinks how grateful he is that everyone in the department thinks he's an irredeemable fuckup, so that he can stay where he is.
Pit. Over a shot of the empty orange couch, we hear kids playing, a helicopter, a siren. If there were only someone out there hawking yellow tops, it would be just like any other day.