The police boat backs up to a pier, and McNulty hops out to tie it up; even I can tell that's a piss-poor attempt at a knot, and I grew up in Saskatchewan. He asks Diggins where he's going to be, and Diggins says he's going to "go find some lunch somewhere, maybe." If McNulty was fishing for an invitation, he's been denied. "Fishing!" Ha! McNulty asks Diggins to give him an hour. He staggers up some stairs and away from the water as Diggins calls after him, shit-talking the poor quality of his knot: "Why don't you just do bunny ears?" Because McNulty wears loafers?

Warehouse. Beside the container the dead women were found in, there are now several neat stacks of linens, and a table with small bits of paperwork. Adjacent to those is another table, at which three cops work; Beadie reports to her colleagues that all they've recovered is "medics, clothes, bedrolls -- that's it." Another cop produces a letter. She asks what language it's written in, but the guy doesn't know: "Same backwards-ass writing, though." Cop With Hat (not much point trying to get to know him, trust me) says that the writing is Russian. Beadie inspects the envelope; she can't make out the name or address, but says that the stamp reads "Magyar."

Enter McNulty. Clearly, his reputation doesn't precede him, or these guys would be crossing themselves or making the evil eye or something. McNulty asks the three unis which of their detectives caught the thirteen dead women. "'Detectives'?" chuckles Beadie. "They're at the bar already." Cop With Hat elaborates that the case got dumped on the port cops, and that since Beadie found them, she has to write them up. McNulty kind of looks her over, as though curious as to whether she's up to the task, and introduces himself. Beadie introduces herself as "Beatrice" and puts out her hand to shake, but McNulty's already wandering off, sticking his nose in her business, calling over his shoulder to ask whether they've found any IDs yet. Beadie gets up to hurry after him, saying that they haven't found any IDs, visas, or passports: "A few scraps of paper, but nothing to make sense of. Russian alphabet on most of it. You just curious?" By now, McNulty's made his way past the camouflage boxes and into the container, and is peering around as he tells her he is just curious: "Day before yesterday, I fished out a Jane Doe from near the bridge. There's no missing-person report on file." He heads out again, returning to the table, as Beadie reveals, "We got fourteen bedrolls and thirteen bodies." McNulty looks up sharply, his mouth hanging a bit slack with surprise (and with his one earflap up, he looks especially gormless and cute), and replies, "Mine was a murder." Beadie: "A murder! You're kidding me!" She directs McNulty to some photos, spread out on a table with other ephemera. As he paws everything hungrily, McNulty tells Beadie, "I called down the morgue this morning. The only thing they can say is the dental work isn't local. Overseas, they think." He's picked up a couple of black-and-white shots of a smiling brunette with what appear to be her mother and daughter. "That your girl?" asks Beadie. McNulty says he thinks so: "Looks better here." Beadie repeats McNulty's timeline -- that his victim was in the water, the day before yesterday, near the bridge. McNulty adds that it was around 9 AM, "by the Fort Armistead dock." Beadie asks why there would be a murdered girl in the water, "and the rest of them are suffocating in a can at Patapso?" McNulty asks what went wrong, and one of the non-Beadie cops (from offscreen, so I can't tell if he's With Hat or Without) tells him about the crushed air pipe.This is why, when you're planning to smuggle human cargo, it pays to use a company that's ISO 9001-registered.