Prison. Levy's lined up his second meeting, and has secured an agreement to hold Avon's first parole meeting in a year, and to note his co-operation in his file. Reynolds crabs, "You can't make a case on just some con's say-so." To borrow a phrase from Burrell, he says that they need dope on the table. Levy has anticipated this, and says that if they search Tilghman's car, locker, and person before the end of the day, he's "confident that sufficient evidence will be recovered." Reynolds takes issue with the "confident" locution, but some other suit in the room says that Corrections considers this a fair deal as long as it puts an end to all this overdose talk. Reynolds isn't pleased. The suit starts to threaten, "But if we come up empty on this--" "You won't," says Levy. He is confident! As a screw leads Avon and Levy out of the room, Reynolds turns to the suit: "Five will get you ten that's the motherfucker that spiked the packages." Suit asks if Reynolds has any proof. He doesn't, of course, and Suit gets up, saying that they have to make the case that's there for them to make. Man, someone get Reynolds on the detail!
Some anonymous person has mailed Valchek an envelope from New Orleans. He opens it up, and...surprise! His van's made it to The Big Easy. Daniels enters, and Valchek quickly puts the photo away and warmly welcomes Daniels to the Southeast. Daniels says he heard that Valchek had asked for him. Valchek relays Prez's compliments, adding that Daniels "did him a good turn" the previous year. Daniels decides to let that pass, and asks Valchek to tell him about the target. Valchek says that Frank is a union guy, down at the port, who's been "showing a lot of money"; Valchek's gut tells him it has something to do with drugs. Daniels nods. Valchek adds that Frank's people will "up and steal anything that isn't nailed down." Hard to argue with that claim, given what we've seen. He asks whether Daniels has seen the detail office; he hasn't, yet, and told his people to meet up at the district office. Valchek claims that the office constitutes "pretty good digs," and offers to show him. I guess it could be argued that it's nicer than the dank basement that was probably full of various species' pee.
Church. McNulty's taken the letter he found to an older Polish housekeeper at the rectory. She's telling him that the letter is from a young woman to her mother, or to an older woman, at least. McNulty asks whether the writer mentions any names; the housekeeper says that there's talk of someone named Anya, who seems to be a child. A real old priest enters to hover over the housekeeper, who resumes preparing his meal. McNulty asks whom the woman is writing to, but she says there's no name: "The letter is for the whole family. But she signs 'Nadya.' Her name is Nadya." McNulty repeats the name. The housekeeper asks if Nadya's in trouble. "She's dead," says McNulty, pretty bluntly. The housekeeper looks down in dismay. McNulty asks whether there's anything in the letter to indicate where the family lives. The housekeeper starts to say that if he had an envelope...but he says he doesn't. The housekeeper says the only specific thing she mentions is a church -- St. Volodymyr (St. Vladimir) -- and a Fr. Vasyl, which is a common name in eastern Europe, as is the name of the church. McNulty takes the letter back, but the housekeeper tells him to leave it, saying that she'll try to wring more information out of it. As long as it doesn't delay the preparation of anyone's pierogies, I assume.