Christine Whitney: Mac Taylor, you're an idiot.
Mac: Why is that, exactly?
Christine Whitney: 'Cause I'm a catch, and you're gonna lose me.
Mac: I should have called, I know. Besides work and the fact that I'm not very good at this...
Christine Whitney: Hey, it's not about the phone call. If you're not... ready for something or, um... work's too busy or your life's complicated or you're scared, I get it (Laughs) I mean, I'm scared, too. Look, um, when your brother dies in the line of duty, the last guy you want to date is a cop. But I'm here and... we kissed, and I guess I just want to know if it felt right to you, too.
Mac: It did.
Christine Whitney: (Laughs) Good.
Mac: So, how about I make it up to you. We'll go out to dinner tonight. I know this amazing restaurant with this incredible chef.
Christine Whitney: Well, why don't you just come by the... (Laughs) Oh! Cute. You mean me.
Lindsay: I've always been curious. Why do they call this area Hell's Kitchen?
Mac: Well, the story goes, a veteran cop was watching a riot with his rookie partner who said: 'this place is Hell itself'. To which the veteran replied: 'Hell is a mild climate compared to this. This place is Hell's kitchen'.
Adam: If this is Hell's Kitchen in 1970, as it moves into 1975, '80, '85 and so on, you'll see the change. Anything that turns blue has been bought up, remodeled, torn down or rebuilt. Corporate America moves in.
Mac: And the older generations, like Byrne, who were born and raised there, are driven out because they can't afford the soaring costs.
Mac: So given what we know, we're looking for someone who used a heavy-duty power saw to dismember a body, but before they did that, they used it for something involving plaster, money and blood.
Jo: Sounds ridiculous, but it is Hell's Kitchen.
Mac: Maybe a few decades ago, but not anymore. Those four corners have been all but forgotten, it's not even called Hell's Kitchen anymore.
Jo: Clinton does have a nicer ring to it.
Mac: So why is the violence suddenly back?
Jo: Maybe it never really left.
Flack: According to his financials, he's lived at 48th and 9th his whole life.
Danny: That's Hell's Kitchen, I mean, yuppie central now, but back then, it couldn't have been too easy.
Flack: Irish kid growing up there in the '60s and '70s? You're looking at a 90% chance of ending up a priest, a cop or a gangster. Take a guess what most ended up as?
Danny: Well, of course, priests.
Flack: Not quite. But they did take cash, confessions, and have their own form of catechism.
Flack: Lindsay Messer, meet John Doe.
Lindsay: You know, most people spend their Monday catching up on their co-workers' weekend over a nice cup of coffee.
Flack: We're not most people. And as for my weekend, you're not missing much.
Lindsay: (reads a text from Danny) What has two arms, no legs, no body and no head? (her phone receives another text) My crime scene.
Kieran Reilly: You can think whatever you want about me or where I come from, but I got a sense of loyalty. I was raised with the understanding that you don't go against someone unless they go against you or one of your own.
Flack: So you killed a man based on some twisted sense of loyalty you had toward Byrne and your neighborhood.
Kieran Reilly: My world has laws and a code, just like yours. Break it, and you're done.
Flack: Face it, Kieran, you got played. And now you're stuck here with us while Declan lives the life of Riley down at his bar. You said you'd never go against one of your own unless they went against you. Now's your chance.
Flack: You know, guys like you are a dime a dozen. You're always preaching the same things about loyalty and brotherhood, but you're all brought down by the fact that you drop it in a heartbeat when you stand to gain.
Mac: You brutally murder Michael Byrne, a good man who did everything in his power to hold on to what was good about the past. What a way to keep the neighbourhood alive.
