At a curb, Rawls finds the disputed street sign. Climbing up on a crate, he turns it the right way. Now nothing like this will ever happen again!
Credits. "Dope on the damn table." -- Daniels. Yes, the key to a great dinner party is to offer the right dish for your guests.
At the hospital, Daniels is in a wilted shirt, looking like he's just crawled out from under an anvil. Norris is asking him whether he didn't have "an eyeball," and Daniels exhaustedly replies, "On those streets, there's no way you can eyeball it. She was throwing out 20s the best she could." "Understood," says Norris deferentially. "I'm just asking." Daniels, red-eyed, is never not a cop, and tells Norris, "Our link to this is Savino Bratton, a minor lieutenant to our target, Barksdale. I gave your people all that at the scene." Norris says that they're hitting Savino's "last knowns," but that "the set-up was more than him. The casings are different calibers, and her Glock was full up." And just in time to improve Daniels's life, here comes Burrell, squeezing Daniels's shoulder from behind and asking, "How bad?" "Chest wound, no exit," says Norris. "Through and through to the throat. She wasn't stabilized." Daniels says "they had the pressure pants on her," which sounds extremely kinky. "They put those pants on you, it ain't good," adds Norris helpfully. Daniels squints at Norris but chooses not to punch him. Burrell moves on, and Norris tries to continue questioning Daniels, but they're interrupted when Commissioner Warren Frazier (he's nowhere on the IMDb, so no idea what the actor's name is; sorry, guy!), a bald guy in a fancy-pants uniform, comes over, gives Norris a hand sandwich, and mush-mouths that "this is the toughest job a police commissioner has. I don't think I'll ever get used to it." Norris points out the actual Lieutenant Daniels, and Frazier's like, "Oops." He says that "the entire department stands behind Detective Greggs." Daniels chooses not to punch him either, and Frazier, his unpleasant job done, saunters off beaming, possibly to find some anxious families in the hospital that he can break some bad news to.
Back at the crime scene, Jay is leading the way through the alley, trailed by Bunk and a couple of other detectives. He finds a couple of nice, clear footprints, and calls for the CSIs to cast them.
Out by the car, the DEA guy is trying to act like he's not worried about the $30,000 he just lost when an officer's life is hanging in the balance, but he's obviously having kittens about it. He tries to suggest that they find Savino (like no one on the Baltimore PD actually thought of that), but Rawls stops him, snapping, "Fuck your money." Before the guy can think of a clever quip in response, Rawls looks up the way and moves on, leaving the DEA guy to ponder how hard it would be for him to use his law-enforcement connections to steal someone's identity and haul ass to Mexico.