The Baltimore Urban Debate League is having a student competition, and the well-spoken young man holding forth with facts and figures about the African AIDS epidemic is...Namond Brice?! Wow, we haven't seen him since the very end of Season 4! And the proud parental figure beaming in the auditorium is...Bunny Colvin?! Wow, we haven't seen him since he appeared in that other, decidedly less good TV program! And behind Bunny is...The Deacon?! Okay, I'll stop with the faux surprise. I'm just happy to see people who haven't been ground into dust by The System. You have to admit, they're more endangered than California condors on this show. Anyhow, because there's no better place to posture about how great the school system is doing under your watch than at a debate featuring at-risk youth made good, Carcetti strolls into the auditorium, flanked by flunkies and fixers. Bunny regards his entrance with resigned weariness. Wonder what he's so torked about? How Carcetti grandstanded about Hamsterdam for political gain? How he skipped the meeting about that education pilot program Colvin was involved in, essentially dooming it? A little from Column A and a little from Column B?
Marlo's still in jail -- you look great in orange, buddy -- and meeting with Levy to talk about how soon he can blow this taco stand. The answer? Not very soon at all. Cheese might be able to make bail, if he's willing to put up his mother's house, as will Monk -- presumably with his mother's house, and not Cheese's. But the murder warrant against Chris means he's going to be held without bond, and that's probably going to go for Marlo as well, since he's listed as the conspirator-in-chief in the charging papers. But how can that be, Marlo wonders, when he left all the direct involvement with the drug trade to his loyal, easily-sacrificed lieutenants? Oh, Marlo -- poor not-as-smart-as-you-aspire-to-be Marlo. The problem, Levy explains, is that damnable confidential source, who told the police that Marlo and company communicated with each other via coded transmissions on cell phones. Marlo says that the only people who knew about the code or even had phones were Chris, Monk, and Cheese -- all arrested and charged, for those of you scoring along at home. Of course, there's always the suppliers, but Marlo doesn't think they tipped off the cops. "Well, someone knew and someone told," Levy concludes. If what the affidavit says about the informant is true -- and all of us know that it's kind of made up -- then the CI told police about the re-supply date, and they knew to follow Monk and others to the warehouse. So...who knew about that re-supply? Just Snoop, Marlo says. "And you trust her?" Levy asks. Marlo does, though possibly a little less than he did before this scene started.
At Homicide, McNulty is unenthusiastically handing out surveillance assignments to Dozerman and company. They get to spend the next couple of days following around three known sex offenders in the Southern District to see if they're connected to the serial killer case. (Let me save everyone some time: they're not.) But at least they won't be the only ones wasting their time: Landsman walks up with some information about a dead homeless guy whose body just turned up. To his credit, McNulty does not blurt, "But I haven't doctored a crime scene in weeks!" Instead, he presses Landsman for details. Was it a strangulation? Was there a red ribbon tied around the victim's wrist? "Actually, it was more of a burnt sienna," Landsman says. "And it was lashed around his dick. Fuck do I know?" Keep up that kind of witty repartee, Jay, and one of us is going to be out of a gig. McNulty starts to protest that this doesn't sound like his killer at all, but Landsman is already a puff of smoke. Kima watches all of this and comments snottily that it looks like McNulty will be wasting his own time, for once. Kima, there's only room for one person here to comment disdainfully about McNulty's actions, and that job has been filled. I feel like you and Landsman are muscling in on my territory here.