Post by cellogal on Sept 3, 2008 15:32:14 GMT -5
June 5, 1981
“The Times They Are A-Changin’” and snapshots of anti-Vietnam protests open this all Bob Dylan episode, and it soon becomes clear that a group of people are looking at slides. One snapshot in particular of a guy who seems to have forgotten his pants, gets a laugh, and the group teases the guy, Z, about his tendency to let this happen. They flip to another slide, of a guy with a megaphone, and one of the girls tells Bobby Kennedy to eat his heart out. Another slide is of a younger version of one of the guys in the group, who offers $100 to anyone who will destroy it, but doesn’t get any takers. The next slide is of one of the blonde girls in a silky white negligee, and a guy comes up to her and tells her that it’s sexy; just what the doctor likes. She tells him that it’s not her in the picture, in fact, it’s Sara, and he looks uncomfortably to the other blonde, who’s wearing those big plastic glasses that were popular for some unknown reason back then and smiling at him. The guy can’t believe it, and Sara says that she and the other blonde looked alike, once upon a time. The other one says they still do, but Sara’s prettier. Z says that the first six months he knew them, he thought they were sisters, and another guy points out that Z was on acid his entire freshman year. Sara argues that he wasn’t ALWAYS on acid, and Z adds that he threw mushrooms into the mix.
One of the other guys asks the host, Jack, how long he’s going to torture them, but the non-Sara blonde argues that she loves the pictures; they remind her of the freedom of their college days. Sara says she’d go back in a heartbeat; she had so much time back then. The guys add that now, they have work, and bills, and voting for Reagan. The next slide shows Sara with her arms around a guy who doesn’t seem to be among them, and tension falls over the group as Jack claims to not know how that one got in there. Sara stares at the picture in silence, and Jack guesses that the show’s over. I’d be inclined to agree.
A clock on the nightstand reads 11:47, and Jack wakes up to find the other half of the bed empty. He goes downstairs to investigate, sees a tea kettle whistling on the stove, fiddles with it for a minute, and then sees a shadow quickly pass by. He asks Johanna, the non-Sara blonde, if she’s all right, and then…ka-boom! An explosion rocks the kitchen, which then bursts into flames.
At PPD, an officer fills out a report, saying that there were 2 victims, and the explosion was ruled an accident, caused by a ruptured gas line.
Present Day
Lilly arrives at what looks a lot like that same house, greeting Stillman and Louie, who tells her she’s looking good. She really is this morning. “Back atcha, Louie,” she responds with a smile. Stillman explains that a couple named Jack and Johanna Kimball died at the house in 1981 in what looked like an accidental gas explosion, but Louie says that “looked” was the operative word. Stillman goes on to say that the blast from the stove caused some of the debris to fall behind the basement drywall, and Scotty asks if the owner found something. Stillman says that the construction foreman did, during renovations, and Louie hands them a couple of evidence bags containing fragments of a pipe cap and a melted battery. Scotty realizes that they’re talking bomb, and Louie elaborates, saying it was a bomb designed specifically to mimic a gas explosion. Lilly surmises that this is why they didn’t find anything back in 1981, and Louie says that you can’t find what you’re not looking for. Lilly asks if the battery was used for a triggering device, which Louie confirms, and Scotty asks what kind of couple these two were. Stillman says they were clean-cut and upwardly mobile. “And blown to bits,” Lilly adds. Well, yes, I suppose that’s one way of putting it.
Credits.
Squad room. Jeffries produces a one-page report which says that the bodies were blasted to smithereens, which he wryly points out is nothing we don’t already know. Kat reads from the file that Jack and Johanna met at Penn and married in 1973; Jack was an ad copy writer, and Johanna was a corporate lawyer, with no kids. “All work and no play,” Jeffries remarks. Stillman comments about them being a young couple who settled into the mainline, and Jeffries adds that 1981 produced the first wave of yuppies. Also my brother, although I doubt the two are related. Stillman reads that a college friend, Sara Lowell, paid for their funerals, and adds that Lilly and Scotty are starting there. Suddenly, he sees his daughter and adorable grandson, and excuses himself to go talk to them.
He greets Janie and Sean, who shows off an action figure of some guy who can bend air. Stillman’s impressed. Me, too. Bending air could come in all sorts of handy. Janie instructs Sean to go wait in Grandpa’s office, and he takes off. As soon as he’s gone, Stillman asks Janie if she’s okay, and at first she says yes, but then admits that she’s not. She asks him if he could take Sean for a couple days, and Stillman readily agrees, then Janie explains that she and Carl need a night together to talk. Stillman asks if something happened, and Janie says no, they’ve just become strangers who live in the same house. Well, that’s not good. Stillman admits that he’s the last person who should be giving advice on this, but tells her that, good, bad, whatever, don’t leave anything left unsaid. She says she won’t, then asks Stillman if he’s sure he can handle Sean. “Well, I could handle you, right?” Stillman asks, and Janie, satisfied, blows Sean a kiss and departs, leaving Stillman alone with Sean and the guy who can bend air. Not bad company, if you ask me. Stillman then maneuvers the action figure through the air, and at this point, I’m really having a hard time deciding who’s more adorable: Sean, or Stillman.
Sara’s house. She doesn’t seem to be much of a hippie anymore, either, as evidenced by her gorgeous house. Lilly compliments Sara, who’s misting a plant, on some of the beautiful flowers, and Sara identifies the ones Lilly’s looking at as a particular kind of orchid that relies on other shoots to bloom, and her mother always said they symbolize the strength of family. Scotty’s not quite as interested in the flowers, asking Sara instead if she has any thoughts on who might want to hurt Jack or Johanna. She doesn’t. They were a young, happy couple, she says, with no enemies. Scotty then asks when she last saw them, and she says they hosted a college reunion weekend; Sara and the others left on Saturday, and the next night, Jack and Johanna were dead. Lilly asks if the reunion was fun times, and Sara says there was lots of partying and talking into the night, like the old days. Scotty picks up on the fact that perhaps she didn’t have such a wonderful time, and Sara says she was still stuck in her old hippie ways and didn’t fit very well into the Decade of Greed. Lilly asks if Jack and Johanna were hippies, too, and Sara says they were true activists, protesting against an America that had become an imperialistic bully. Lilly says that sounds vaguely familiar, and Sara continues, saying that capitalism was a dirty word for them in ’71. Scotty asks about ’81, and Sara says it wasn’t so dirty for some of them anymore.
Kimballs’ living room. Sara lies on the couch, listening to “All Along the Watchtower,” but the guys are more interested in talking about the specific capabilities of the stereo and how much it cost. Jack asks the other guy, Porter, if he remembers when they were going to use their talent for a purpose, and Porter scoffs that purpose is for Cub Scouts. Johanna comes in then and turns the stereo down; Jack protests that he just did that, and Johanna says it’s still too loud, citing the neighbors. Jack points out that it’s Friday night, and she’s not ready for bed. She smiles and says she didn’t say that, then asks Jack to refill her wine glass, which he heads for the kitchen to do. Sara decides to join him, and Johanna takes Sara’s place on the couch. Porter asks her about that summer freshman year, when she visited him and his parents were gone…it feels like yesterday, he says, as he sits down on the couch next to her. Johanna points out that it was 12 years ago, and Porter says he thinks about those days too much. He then starts playing with her hair, and, as Sara watches from the doorway, Johanna asks him what he’s doing. He claims he was just fixing her hair and urges her to relax. She doesn’t, ordering him to fix it in front of Jack next time. Porter tells her not to put on airs with him, pointing out that she’s a long way from that one-bedroom apartment in Newark. Johanna tells Porter to grow up, and he retorts that she should stop acting like she just stepped off the Mayflower; her dad was a plumber. That argument made very little sense. Johanna doesn’t address this, though, just points out the irony that Porter works for a military contractor and wonders what his boss would say if he knew what Porter did in college. Porter takes it back, he says, Johanna hasn’t changed a bit. She’s still a manipulative b*tch. Johanna smiles and says she drives by his office all the time; maybe she’ll stop in and say hi. Porter tells her quietly that if she ever goes near his workplace, it’ll be the last thing she ever does. Sara, having heard enough, turns and heads back into the kitchen for her wine. Porter goes there, too, and she passes him on her way back into the living room.
Sara says she doesn’t know what Johanna was talking about; it was very complicated between her and Porter. Scotty asks how, and Sara says that Johanna and Porter used to date before she broke it off for Jack. Oooh. Complicated, indeed. Sara adds that she doesn’t think Porter ever got over Johanna. Lilly asks if Porter showed up at the funeral, and Sara says she paid for it, but didn’t go: she wanted to remember Jack and Johanna as they were, and she never saw any of them again after that weekend.
Stillman’s office. Vera reminds Porter of Johanna dumping and dissing him, and Jeffries adds that she had some dirt on him; maybe he stopped her from talking. Porter insists he’d never hurt Johanna, but Vera’s more amused by the fact that he’s still not telling them what she had on him. Reluctantly, Porter tells them about one night freshman year when they were busted for breaking into Penn’s ROTC headquarters and smashing it up with baseball bats. “Ten years later, you’re working for a company with huge military contracts,” Jeffries observes drily. Vera guesses that this little incident wasn’t on Porter’s resume. “What do you think, Einstein?” Porter snarks. “I think you should answer yes or no,” Vera replies smoothly. Oooh. Go, Vera. He goes on to ask if that’s all Johanna had on him; Porter says it is, and Vera wonders why he knows Porter’s lying. Man, Vera’s rocking this interview. Jeffries, not to be outdone, informs Porter that he’s a suspect in a double homicide, and they’ll dig deep into his background and leave no stone unturned. Vera adds that they’re much more sympathetic to suspects that do the digging for them. Heh. Porter finally says that they were wannabe Che Guevaras, out to change the world, and it wasn’t what Johanna had on him; it’s what Z had on all of them.
Kimball house, where we hear “Ballad of a Thin Man.” Jack and Porter come out onto the porch and burst out laughing, calling for everyone to hide the children as they see Z bicycling around in nothing but a pair of sneakers and a Reagan mask. Someone asks Z if he’s going to be sure and wash that seat off. Oh, I’d settle for nothing less than burning it if it were my bike. Seriously. After a bit more cycling and related banter, Jack’s had enough, and reminds Z that he has neighbors. Z’s incredulous that Jack suddenly cares about what the neighbors think, but Jack does, in fact, care, because he’s the schmuck with the nude houseguest riding a bike. Z response by peeling off the mask, dropping the bike, and slurring a drunken rendition of “Mr. Jones.” Jack tells him to knock it off, but he just keeps singing. Jack finally realizes that Z’s actually trying to say something and challenges him on it; Z tells Jack that he used to be his hero, reminding him of his inspiring words and asking about the plans they had. Porter laughs, and Z continues. “Is it ever about the cause, Jack?” he asks. “Or is it just about you hearing yourself talk?” “Go to hell,” Jack replies. “See you there…Mr. Jones,” Z retorts. Jack stares at him for a moment, then goes inside, and Porter looks on as Z turns and staggers, still naked, into the street. My, but they’re having just a whale of a time at this reunion, aren’t they?
Porter explains that “Mr. Jones” referred to the Jones Family, a radical underground group in the ‘70s that espoused violence. Jeffries remembers running into them on patrol, and Porter adds that they used to plant bombs in public places to protest the Vietnam War. “Violence to end wars…makes sense,” Vera says sarcastically. My sentiments exactly. Jeffries asks if Jack was a member, and Porter says that they all kind of were; they went to a few meetings, but Porter thought they were all nuts. “Bombin’ for peace was like humpin’ for virginity,” he says. Heh. Jeffries asks if it was just a few meetings, and Porter confirms it. Something tells me our fearless detectives don’t quite buy this story.
Squad room. Kat tells Scotty that the FBI sent over photos of the Jones Family’s Philly Headquarters, and Scotty opens it with interest, curious to see what Porter’s definition of “a few” is. They’re interrupted by the incredibly sharp voice of Stillman ordering Kat into his office, now. She gives Scotty an alarmed glance before heading in to see Sean sitting at Stillman’s desk working on a painting of some sort, and asks what’s up. Stillman pauses, then gestures toward Miller with a juice box. “How in the hell do you open this thing?” he asks, in obvious frustration. Heeeee. “There’s this new device called a straw,” Kat replies smoothly. Oh, MAN. This scene just gets better and better. Stillman’s still clueless, so Kat takes the juice box and pulls the straw off the back. “I didn’t see that,” Stillman admits. Heh. “Why don’t you let the four-year-old show you?” she replies. Is she awesome, or what? She goes over to Sean and asks if he wants some juice, which he does, so he takes the straw and expertly inserts it into the box. Kat, in one last bit of utter awesomeness, suggests that Stillman go interview a murder suspect or something to calm himself down. Funniest. Scene. EVER.
Squad room. Scotty has posted the photos of the Jones Family, and Lilly observes that Porter’s full of it: they were at a lot of meetings. Scotty realizes that Sara wasn’t there, and mentions that there aren’t any FBI files on any of them specifically. They conclude that either the group never really attended meetings, or they were never caught. Vera comes up then with the information that one of them was handy with bombs. Lilly asks him what he’s got. “College files,” he replies. Oh, man. Those things will get you every single time. Vera reads that Z took out a lot of student loans and paid them back by taking a job at a construction company working demolition. “Peace lovin’ hippie was an expert with explosive devices,” Lilly comments. Well, stick that in your pipe and smoke it.
Penn University campus. Vera asks Jeffries where he was in ’71; he replies that he was a year out of the Air Force and worked a foot beat. Vera then asks if he had any run-ins with these Jones Family punks, and Jeffries says he worked crowd control, some protests, then recalls seeing thousands of them right there where they’re standing. Vera, amazed, asked if these kids ever went to class. Jeffries sarcastically asks who has time for class when there’s a revolution going on. “Revolution my ass,” Vera replies. “Takes a silver spoon to have so much time to protest.” Jeffries argues softly that most of the kids’ hearts were in the right place, and Vera replies that his uncle served two tours in Vietnam, and when he got home, two of those “good-hearted college students” threw eggs in his face. “Complicated times, Nick,” Jeffries says, “just like today.”
Z’s office. He turns down the radio, which has been playing “Thunder on the Mountain,” and immediately identifies Vera and Jeffries as detectives, saying it’s a talent he’s long had. “Spotting guys that are gonna ruin your day?” Vera asks, and Jeffries identifies them as Philly Homicide, with questions about Jack and Johanna. They fill him in on how the accidental explosion was really a bomb, which Jeffries points out is reminiscent of what Z and his Jones Family pals used to do. Z plays dumb, and Vera reminds him of his knowledge of explosives. Jeffries adds the fight that Z and Jack had at their reunion, but Z brushes it off, saying he and Jack worked it out. Vera asks Z where he was the night Jack died, and Z says he was home alone. Vera sarcastically compliments him on his great alibi, asking if the butler did it, too. Hee. Z replies that, if anyone had a problem with Jack that weekend, it was Sara.
Kimball kitchen, the next morning. Accompanied by “Positively 4th Street,” Z walks in to find Jack and Sara working on breakfast, and the Reagan mask adorning his place at the table. He apologizes for the Bicycle Incident, but Jack tells him to forget about it. “Wouldn’t be a party without seein’ your ass,” he remarks. Heh. Z says he misses how it used to be with all of them, and Jack agrees. As Sara continues chopping something, Z tells Jack he’s going to go home tomorrow and propose to his girlfriend. She looks up, alarmed, while Jack says he thought Z didn’t believe in the archaic, oppressive bonds of marriage. Z comments that Jack and Johanna make it look cool, and Jack says that you learn to love the little things. He then turns around and asks Sara if she needs help, and we’re all horrified to discover that, instead of the carrots she’s been working on, Sara has instead taken a slice out of her finger. They rush to her aid, but, still holding the knife, she bitterly says that she should have what they have. Jack asks her what she’s talking about; Sara says that McBride was the only person who ever loved her, and Jack killed him. Jack apologizes, but Sara’s having none of it. She says she thought she could move on, but the two guys have made something of themselves. If she disappeared, vanished off the face of the earth tomorrow, she says, no one would even notice. Point made, she goes back to her chopping, although I’m pretty sure nobody’s planning to eat whatever it is she’s making, and says that Jack should be dead, not McBride.
Z explains that McBride, Johanna’s boyfriend, was a gung-ho activist inspired by Jack’s political writings, specifically his catchphrase, “Peace at any cost.” Vera realizes this means that violence is okay, and Z confirms it, then adds that Penn had a science center that had a defense contract with the government, and McBride got a little carried away: he blew himself up planting a bomb there. Carried away, indeed.
“The Times They Are A-Changin’” and snapshots of anti-Vietnam protests open this all Bob Dylan episode, and it soon becomes clear that a group of people are looking at slides. One snapshot in particular of a guy who seems to have forgotten his pants, gets a laugh, and the group teases the guy, Z, about his tendency to let this happen. They flip to another slide, of a guy with a megaphone, and one of the girls tells Bobby Kennedy to eat his heart out. Another slide is of a younger version of one of the guys in the group, who offers $100 to anyone who will destroy it, but doesn’t get any takers. The next slide is of one of the blonde girls in a silky white negligee, and a guy comes up to her and tells her that it’s sexy; just what the doctor likes. She tells him that it’s not her in the picture, in fact, it’s Sara, and he looks uncomfortably to the other blonde, who’s wearing those big plastic glasses that were popular for some unknown reason back then and smiling at him. The guy can’t believe it, and Sara says that she and the other blonde looked alike, once upon a time. The other one says they still do, but Sara’s prettier. Z says that the first six months he knew them, he thought they were sisters, and another guy points out that Z was on acid his entire freshman year. Sara argues that he wasn’t ALWAYS on acid, and Z adds that he threw mushrooms into the mix.
One of the other guys asks the host, Jack, how long he’s going to torture them, but the non-Sara blonde argues that she loves the pictures; they remind her of the freedom of their college days. Sara says she’d go back in a heartbeat; she had so much time back then. The guys add that now, they have work, and bills, and voting for Reagan. The next slide shows Sara with her arms around a guy who doesn’t seem to be among them, and tension falls over the group as Jack claims to not know how that one got in there. Sara stares at the picture in silence, and Jack guesses that the show’s over. I’d be inclined to agree.
A clock on the nightstand reads 11:47, and Jack wakes up to find the other half of the bed empty. He goes downstairs to investigate, sees a tea kettle whistling on the stove, fiddles with it for a minute, and then sees a shadow quickly pass by. He asks Johanna, the non-Sara blonde, if she’s all right, and then…ka-boom! An explosion rocks the kitchen, which then bursts into flames.
At PPD, an officer fills out a report, saying that there were 2 victims, and the explosion was ruled an accident, caused by a ruptured gas line.
Present Day
Lilly arrives at what looks a lot like that same house, greeting Stillman and Louie, who tells her she’s looking good. She really is this morning. “Back atcha, Louie,” she responds with a smile. Stillman explains that a couple named Jack and Johanna Kimball died at the house in 1981 in what looked like an accidental gas explosion, but Louie says that “looked” was the operative word. Stillman goes on to say that the blast from the stove caused some of the debris to fall behind the basement drywall, and Scotty asks if the owner found something. Stillman says that the construction foreman did, during renovations, and Louie hands them a couple of evidence bags containing fragments of a pipe cap and a melted battery. Scotty realizes that they’re talking bomb, and Louie elaborates, saying it was a bomb designed specifically to mimic a gas explosion. Lilly surmises that this is why they didn’t find anything back in 1981, and Louie says that you can’t find what you’re not looking for. Lilly asks if the battery was used for a triggering device, which Louie confirms, and Scotty asks what kind of couple these two were. Stillman says they were clean-cut and upwardly mobile. “And blown to bits,” Lilly adds. Well, yes, I suppose that’s one way of putting it.
Credits.
Squad room. Jeffries produces a one-page report which says that the bodies were blasted to smithereens, which he wryly points out is nothing we don’t already know. Kat reads from the file that Jack and Johanna met at Penn and married in 1973; Jack was an ad copy writer, and Johanna was a corporate lawyer, with no kids. “All work and no play,” Jeffries remarks. Stillman comments about them being a young couple who settled into the mainline, and Jeffries adds that 1981 produced the first wave of yuppies. Also my brother, although I doubt the two are related. Stillman reads that a college friend, Sara Lowell, paid for their funerals, and adds that Lilly and Scotty are starting there. Suddenly, he sees his daughter and adorable grandson, and excuses himself to go talk to them.
He greets Janie and Sean, who shows off an action figure of some guy who can bend air. Stillman’s impressed. Me, too. Bending air could come in all sorts of handy. Janie instructs Sean to go wait in Grandpa’s office, and he takes off. As soon as he’s gone, Stillman asks Janie if she’s okay, and at first she says yes, but then admits that she’s not. She asks him if he could take Sean for a couple days, and Stillman readily agrees, then Janie explains that she and Carl need a night together to talk. Stillman asks if something happened, and Janie says no, they’ve just become strangers who live in the same house. Well, that’s not good. Stillman admits that he’s the last person who should be giving advice on this, but tells her that, good, bad, whatever, don’t leave anything left unsaid. She says she won’t, then asks Stillman if he’s sure he can handle Sean. “Well, I could handle you, right?” Stillman asks, and Janie, satisfied, blows Sean a kiss and departs, leaving Stillman alone with Sean and the guy who can bend air. Not bad company, if you ask me. Stillman then maneuvers the action figure through the air, and at this point, I’m really having a hard time deciding who’s more adorable: Sean, or Stillman.
Sara’s house. She doesn’t seem to be much of a hippie anymore, either, as evidenced by her gorgeous house. Lilly compliments Sara, who’s misting a plant, on some of the beautiful flowers, and Sara identifies the ones Lilly’s looking at as a particular kind of orchid that relies on other shoots to bloom, and her mother always said they symbolize the strength of family. Scotty’s not quite as interested in the flowers, asking Sara instead if she has any thoughts on who might want to hurt Jack or Johanna. She doesn’t. They were a young, happy couple, she says, with no enemies. Scotty then asks when she last saw them, and she says they hosted a college reunion weekend; Sara and the others left on Saturday, and the next night, Jack and Johanna were dead. Lilly asks if the reunion was fun times, and Sara says there was lots of partying and talking into the night, like the old days. Scotty picks up on the fact that perhaps she didn’t have such a wonderful time, and Sara says she was still stuck in her old hippie ways and didn’t fit very well into the Decade of Greed. Lilly asks if Jack and Johanna were hippies, too, and Sara says they were true activists, protesting against an America that had become an imperialistic bully. Lilly says that sounds vaguely familiar, and Sara continues, saying that capitalism was a dirty word for them in ’71. Scotty asks about ’81, and Sara says it wasn’t so dirty for some of them anymore.
Kimballs’ living room. Sara lies on the couch, listening to “All Along the Watchtower,” but the guys are more interested in talking about the specific capabilities of the stereo and how much it cost. Jack asks the other guy, Porter, if he remembers when they were going to use their talent for a purpose, and Porter scoffs that purpose is for Cub Scouts. Johanna comes in then and turns the stereo down; Jack protests that he just did that, and Johanna says it’s still too loud, citing the neighbors. Jack points out that it’s Friday night, and she’s not ready for bed. She smiles and says she didn’t say that, then asks Jack to refill her wine glass, which he heads for the kitchen to do. Sara decides to join him, and Johanna takes Sara’s place on the couch. Porter asks her about that summer freshman year, when she visited him and his parents were gone…it feels like yesterday, he says, as he sits down on the couch next to her. Johanna points out that it was 12 years ago, and Porter says he thinks about those days too much. He then starts playing with her hair, and, as Sara watches from the doorway, Johanna asks him what he’s doing. He claims he was just fixing her hair and urges her to relax. She doesn’t, ordering him to fix it in front of Jack next time. Porter tells her not to put on airs with him, pointing out that she’s a long way from that one-bedroom apartment in Newark. Johanna tells Porter to grow up, and he retorts that she should stop acting like she just stepped off the Mayflower; her dad was a plumber. That argument made very little sense. Johanna doesn’t address this, though, just points out the irony that Porter works for a military contractor and wonders what his boss would say if he knew what Porter did in college. Porter takes it back, he says, Johanna hasn’t changed a bit. She’s still a manipulative b*tch. Johanna smiles and says she drives by his office all the time; maybe she’ll stop in and say hi. Porter tells her quietly that if she ever goes near his workplace, it’ll be the last thing she ever does. Sara, having heard enough, turns and heads back into the kitchen for her wine. Porter goes there, too, and she passes him on her way back into the living room.
Sara says she doesn’t know what Johanna was talking about; it was very complicated between her and Porter. Scotty asks how, and Sara says that Johanna and Porter used to date before she broke it off for Jack. Oooh. Complicated, indeed. Sara adds that she doesn’t think Porter ever got over Johanna. Lilly asks if Porter showed up at the funeral, and Sara says she paid for it, but didn’t go: she wanted to remember Jack and Johanna as they were, and she never saw any of them again after that weekend.
Stillman’s office. Vera reminds Porter of Johanna dumping and dissing him, and Jeffries adds that she had some dirt on him; maybe he stopped her from talking. Porter insists he’d never hurt Johanna, but Vera’s more amused by the fact that he’s still not telling them what she had on him. Reluctantly, Porter tells them about one night freshman year when they were busted for breaking into Penn’s ROTC headquarters and smashing it up with baseball bats. “Ten years later, you’re working for a company with huge military contracts,” Jeffries observes drily. Vera guesses that this little incident wasn’t on Porter’s resume. “What do you think, Einstein?” Porter snarks. “I think you should answer yes or no,” Vera replies smoothly. Oooh. Go, Vera. He goes on to ask if that’s all Johanna had on him; Porter says it is, and Vera wonders why he knows Porter’s lying. Man, Vera’s rocking this interview. Jeffries, not to be outdone, informs Porter that he’s a suspect in a double homicide, and they’ll dig deep into his background and leave no stone unturned. Vera adds that they’re much more sympathetic to suspects that do the digging for them. Heh. Porter finally says that they were wannabe Che Guevaras, out to change the world, and it wasn’t what Johanna had on him; it’s what Z had on all of them.
Kimball house, where we hear “Ballad of a Thin Man.” Jack and Porter come out onto the porch and burst out laughing, calling for everyone to hide the children as they see Z bicycling around in nothing but a pair of sneakers and a Reagan mask. Someone asks Z if he’s going to be sure and wash that seat off. Oh, I’d settle for nothing less than burning it if it were my bike. Seriously. After a bit more cycling and related banter, Jack’s had enough, and reminds Z that he has neighbors. Z’s incredulous that Jack suddenly cares about what the neighbors think, but Jack does, in fact, care, because he’s the schmuck with the nude houseguest riding a bike. Z response by peeling off the mask, dropping the bike, and slurring a drunken rendition of “Mr. Jones.” Jack tells him to knock it off, but he just keeps singing. Jack finally realizes that Z’s actually trying to say something and challenges him on it; Z tells Jack that he used to be his hero, reminding him of his inspiring words and asking about the plans they had. Porter laughs, and Z continues. “Is it ever about the cause, Jack?” he asks. “Or is it just about you hearing yourself talk?” “Go to hell,” Jack replies. “See you there…Mr. Jones,” Z retorts. Jack stares at him for a moment, then goes inside, and Porter looks on as Z turns and staggers, still naked, into the street. My, but they’re having just a whale of a time at this reunion, aren’t they?
Porter explains that “Mr. Jones” referred to the Jones Family, a radical underground group in the ‘70s that espoused violence. Jeffries remembers running into them on patrol, and Porter adds that they used to plant bombs in public places to protest the Vietnam War. “Violence to end wars…makes sense,” Vera says sarcastically. My sentiments exactly. Jeffries asks if Jack was a member, and Porter says that they all kind of were; they went to a few meetings, but Porter thought they were all nuts. “Bombin’ for peace was like humpin’ for virginity,” he says. Heh. Jeffries asks if it was just a few meetings, and Porter confirms it. Something tells me our fearless detectives don’t quite buy this story.
Squad room. Kat tells Scotty that the FBI sent over photos of the Jones Family’s Philly Headquarters, and Scotty opens it with interest, curious to see what Porter’s definition of “a few” is. They’re interrupted by the incredibly sharp voice of Stillman ordering Kat into his office, now. She gives Scotty an alarmed glance before heading in to see Sean sitting at Stillman’s desk working on a painting of some sort, and asks what’s up. Stillman pauses, then gestures toward Miller with a juice box. “How in the hell do you open this thing?” he asks, in obvious frustration. Heeeee. “There’s this new device called a straw,” Kat replies smoothly. Oh, MAN. This scene just gets better and better. Stillman’s still clueless, so Kat takes the juice box and pulls the straw off the back. “I didn’t see that,” Stillman admits. Heh. “Why don’t you let the four-year-old show you?” she replies. Is she awesome, or what? She goes over to Sean and asks if he wants some juice, which he does, so he takes the straw and expertly inserts it into the box. Kat, in one last bit of utter awesomeness, suggests that Stillman go interview a murder suspect or something to calm himself down. Funniest. Scene. EVER.
Squad room. Scotty has posted the photos of the Jones Family, and Lilly observes that Porter’s full of it: they were at a lot of meetings. Scotty realizes that Sara wasn’t there, and mentions that there aren’t any FBI files on any of them specifically. They conclude that either the group never really attended meetings, or they were never caught. Vera comes up then with the information that one of them was handy with bombs. Lilly asks him what he’s got. “College files,” he replies. Oh, man. Those things will get you every single time. Vera reads that Z took out a lot of student loans and paid them back by taking a job at a construction company working demolition. “Peace lovin’ hippie was an expert with explosive devices,” Lilly comments. Well, stick that in your pipe and smoke it.
Penn University campus. Vera asks Jeffries where he was in ’71; he replies that he was a year out of the Air Force and worked a foot beat. Vera then asks if he had any run-ins with these Jones Family punks, and Jeffries says he worked crowd control, some protests, then recalls seeing thousands of them right there where they’re standing. Vera, amazed, asked if these kids ever went to class. Jeffries sarcastically asks who has time for class when there’s a revolution going on. “Revolution my ass,” Vera replies. “Takes a silver spoon to have so much time to protest.” Jeffries argues softly that most of the kids’ hearts were in the right place, and Vera replies that his uncle served two tours in Vietnam, and when he got home, two of those “good-hearted college students” threw eggs in his face. “Complicated times, Nick,” Jeffries says, “just like today.”
Z’s office. He turns down the radio, which has been playing “Thunder on the Mountain,” and immediately identifies Vera and Jeffries as detectives, saying it’s a talent he’s long had. “Spotting guys that are gonna ruin your day?” Vera asks, and Jeffries identifies them as Philly Homicide, with questions about Jack and Johanna. They fill him in on how the accidental explosion was really a bomb, which Jeffries points out is reminiscent of what Z and his Jones Family pals used to do. Z plays dumb, and Vera reminds him of his knowledge of explosives. Jeffries adds the fight that Z and Jack had at their reunion, but Z brushes it off, saying he and Jack worked it out. Vera asks Z where he was the night Jack died, and Z says he was home alone. Vera sarcastically compliments him on his great alibi, asking if the butler did it, too. Hee. Z replies that, if anyone had a problem with Jack that weekend, it was Sara.
Kimball kitchen, the next morning. Accompanied by “Positively 4th Street,” Z walks in to find Jack and Sara working on breakfast, and the Reagan mask adorning his place at the table. He apologizes for the Bicycle Incident, but Jack tells him to forget about it. “Wouldn’t be a party without seein’ your ass,” he remarks. Heh. Z says he misses how it used to be with all of them, and Jack agrees. As Sara continues chopping something, Z tells Jack he’s going to go home tomorrow and propose to his girlfriend. She looks up, alarmed, while Jack says he thought Z didn’t believe in the archaic, oppressive bonds of marriage. Z comments that Jack and Johanna make it look cool, and Jack says that you learn to love the little things. He then turns around and asks Sara if she needs help, and we’re all horrified to discover that, instead of the carrots she’s been working on, Sara has instead taken a slice out of her finger. They rush to her aid, but, still holding the knife, she bitterly says that she should have what they have. Jack asks her what she’s talking about; Sara says that McBride was the only person who ever loved her, and Jack killed him. Jack apologizes, but Sara’s having none of it. She says she thought she could move on, but the two guys have made something of themselves. If she disappeared, vanished off the face of the earth tomorrow, she says, no one would even notice. Point made, she goes back to her chopping, although I’m pretty sure nobody’s planning to eat whatever it is she’s making, and says that Jack should be dead, not McBride.
Z explains that McBride, Johanna’s boyfriend, was a gung-ho activist inspired by Jack’s political writings, specifically his catchphrase, “Peace at any cost.” Vera realizes this means that violence is okay, and Z confirms it, then adds that Penn had a science center that had a defense contract with the government, and McBride got a little carried away: he blew himself up planting a bomb there. Carried away, indeed.
