Kima and Carver creep into their new surveillance haunt. We can hear a guy talking in the typical street patois we're used to hearing from the Barksdale gang and whoever else, and Kima peers out a window, smirking, "Well, I'll be." Soon enough, we see what she's looking at: it's Frog, calling his (white) conversational partner "nigga" and so forth. It's ridiculous. And kind of sad, in the way that hopeless posers always make you sad. Carver: "Thieving motherfuckers take everything, don't they?" Well, Carv, this guy at least left your people plenty of dignity.
Grand Jury. A Charlie emerges, crumpling a piece of paper, and we see Beadie and Bunk waiting on a bench in the hall. Bunk asks Charlie, "How'd we do?" Charlie: "I've almost got one of them ready to swear that the docks are actually near the water." Ha! That seems like a matter best covered by the fifth commandment. As Charlie heads back in, Beadie tells Bunk, "They don't scare, them guys." Bunk leans his head back, groaning. He flaps his hands, and then asks Beadie if she ever had a CI on the docks. Not only has Beadie never had a CI there, but she doesn't even know what the initials stand for. "An informant," says Bunk. Beadie blinks. Bunk: "You ain't got no informants on the dock? Someone you could go to on this? Someone you got a history with?" Beadie shakes her head. Bunk sighs, "They say a police is only as good as his informants. Meaning, we ain't about much." Bunk stands heavily, leaving Beadie to think that at least this is her first unsolved homicide.