Mom, look. Don't say it. Don't even think it.

He looks at a monitor and has a talk-back for identity verification.

He was sitting in his favorite chair. The killer came in behind him and shot him in the back of the head.

Sergeant. In Desert Palms, we don't have a Homicide Division.

- No. Terry. You don't have to... - I let him in.

- [Sighs] Then why does she live in his house? - To get back at him.

- [Mickey Coughing] - Mickey, don't gulp. Mick, try to breathe in slowly.

You don't think I would stoop to listening in at keyholes?

When I'm sure I'm right. I'd hate to look foolish in front of the police.

Look who's got his Irish up! Okay. You don't like the job? Tell me what to do with it.

that it's part of the mob's execution ritual to shoot their victims in the back of the head.

They'll call it off. Look, unless you wanna get involved in a murder, you gotta leave town.

The first time was in the afternoon. I wanted Daddy to get a good look at him.

[Scoffs] Don't be stupid.

You don't know anything.

I don't work for you, Mr. Shannon, so don't give me orders.

I only wanted to look at him again.

- Where'd he go? - I don't know.

To this day, I can't look at a Brussels sprout.

So that's a silencer. Always wondered what one looked like.