he pulled a knife on a seventy- year-old lady, robbed her, raped her and then shoved her in a garbage can.
welcome to the south bronx.
go get him, tiger.
don't take it personally.
maybe he didn't like your shoes.
yeah. what?
so? *
so why are you coming to us? you got a victim who's unconscious, you got no witness, no driver -- you got what we call here a piece of shit. ain't that right, mr. kramer? martin and goldberg look at each other.
oh, no. not me. kramer, this is all yours. i'll see you gentlemen later. andruitti turns and goes.
calm down, abe. we had this information a week ago.
trace the car, what for? we don't have a witness. we don't even know where it happened. we don't even know if it happened.
we don't have a case, even if we find the car. even if we find the owner and the owner says, oh, yeah, gee, yeah, i hit this kid, yeah, the other night, and yeah i didn't stop and i didn't report it. i did it. i did it. then we have a case.
abe. we got zip on this guy. fucking zip.
go public?! you got nothing here. your only witness is in a hospital likely to die. don't listen to this shit, abe. you got to get to manhattan. you got a speech * to make.
what if he does? he can't talk. he's breathing from a tube down his throat.
point?
you'll kill him. he wakes up out of a coma and sees four white men in suits and ties staring at him from the end of the bed, he'll shit and die.
i don't believe what i'm hearing! some poor gook with a tube down his throat pointing at a picture. that's your case?! it's never gonna stand up.
look at me, abe. watch my mouth. read my lips. no. we cannot do that. no way.