[BRISCOE and CURTIS duck under the police tape and walk into a convenience store—the store is crawling with crime scene technicians.]
CURTIS: I'm just saying, Lennie, that sounds pretty damned racist to me.
BRISCOE: I told you Rey, just like I told him, I meant it as a compliment.
CURTIS: How could that possibly be a compliment?
BRISCOE: Anyway, I have to meet with Van Buren in the morning. You know whose side she'll be taking.
CURTIS: Can't say that I blame her.
BRISCOE: God, why is it every time I have to have a talk with a woman, it ends with me needing a lawyer?
CURTIS: Can't say I blame any of them, either.
BRISCOE: Okay, let's get this over with. (To TECHNICIAN) What do we got?
TECHNICIAN: Thomas Jones, 47, seems to be the owner of the place. Took two in the back while he was getting some lottery tickets from the dispenser.
BRISCOE: He died from getting shot? It looks like someone took a grater to his head.
TECHNICIAN: That looked strange to us, too, but over here next to his coffee we found his eczema cream. Prescription strength.
BRISCOE: Hey, I guess those lotto tickets weren't the only thing getting scratched around here.
CURTIS: He's a human being, Lennie, show some respect.
BRISCOE: So, we have any possible motives?
TECHNICIAN: Well, according to his cell records, his last outgoing call was to the DA. Turns out Mr. Jones here was witness to a mob shakedown last month and was about to testify.
BRISCOE: So he went from "take-a-penny, leave-a-penny" to "drop a dime"?
TECHNICIAN: It...ugh...could be, but that's not all we found on his phone. These pictures seem to tell us a lot about Mr. Jones's extra-curricular activities.
CURTIS: Good God, what's he doing to that horse?
TECHNICIAN: Three guesses, and the first two don't count.
CURTIS: That sick bastard.
BRISCOE: You're telling me. Now I know why I can't catch a break betting at Aqueduct.
CURTIS: Lennie, not now...not now... (runs to the employee bathroom to be sick)
BRISCOE: (To TECHNICIAN) Another coworker complaint, a pervert in trouble with the mob, and now a sick partner...six months without winning a bet, and this is the trifecta I finally hit.