At the Sun, Templeton is stammering for time while signaling Alma to get McNulty on the line -- already taken care of, ma'am. Indeed, Freamon motions to McNulty that his cell phone is in fact vibrating. So...to the point then: "Listen to me smack daddy, crack daddy, little baby whack daddy," McNulty continues as Freamon shakes his head in a "who writes this stuff" kind of way. "Here's what's happening. You ain't never going to find them anymore. You ain't never going to see them no more. I'm sending you something right now, you take a good look at this guy because you ain't never going to see him no more." Templeton manages to formulate words along the lines of "Don't hang up," but, of course, McNulty and Freamon have already disconnected the call. Templeton stares at his cell phone and hopes that moisture he's feeling south of the Mason-Dixon line is just perspiration. "That was -- that was him," a clearly startled Templeton says. And there's a long pregnant pause before he remembers to add, "Again." Oh, Templeton -- for a guy who lies so constantly, you sure don't do a very convincing job of it.
Back in the utility closet, Freamon compliments McNulty on his Bawlmer accent -- it's certainly more credible than his English one -- and while those two slap each others' backs, Sydnor leaps into action with his role in this little drama. Which is to say, he takes the cell phone that police have currently traced location and seals it into a bag, presumably for its disposal at a later time. He then hustles to meet the first arriving squad car, flashing his badge at the uniformed officer. "Anyone on a phone?" the officer asks; Sydnor says he hasn't seen anyone, though in fairness to him, it's not like there are any mirrors around. More police have arrived by this point, and the officers start fanning out and grabbing anyone unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity in a vain attempt to find the serial killer among them. You know, we real need to start keeping a running tally of all the people adversely affected by McNulty's little serial killer scheme. We can start with the two dozen or so bystanders who are being brusquely frisked and having their cell phones seized just in case they happen to be a made-up serial killer. It seems like the gentlemen being slammed down onto the hood of a squad car might have an extra special cause to squawk. Sydnor takes in all of this -- including the police chopper swooping down on the scene -- and slinks away before anyone can frisk him for the telltale cellphone.