Season One, Episode Five: “Double Jeopardy” (or “Dressed to Kill”)
written by Michael Kozoll & Steven Bochco
directed by Robert Butler
original airdate: Thursday, January 29, 1981
“Previously on Hill Street Blues…”
Roll Call: Item 9: The Hasidic Protection League is up in arms over vandalism at a Jewish community center. Since they haven’t been mentioned by name yet, your first inclination is to think this is sort of like the Anti-Defamation League… but as Phil subtly exposits, they’re actually the Jewish street gang. Item 10 comes down from Commander Swanson: get rid of the dog, or else. Finally, Operation Duckling, which Phil really wishes he could be a part of, and we will very shortly begin to wonder about Phil’s, um, proclivities. For the first time, we go straight to credits from roll call.
Furillo, Davenport, Washington, and Bruce Warnick — LaRue’s attorney — are discussing their quiet investigation into Macafee, who’s apparently doing nothing which would arouse suspicion of corruption. Washington’s even gone so far as to call in a favor from a friend who’s a “garbologist”, and that’s exactly what you think it is. Even Macafee’s trash is clean. Warnick departs, with smarm, and Joyce suggests to Furillo that LaRue plead diminished capacity because he’s an alcoholic. That sets off a talking-over-each-other argument, which includes Furillo taking a shot at Joyce about the time she spends off the clock with ADA Skip Fitzgerald. “There’s fire in that woman,” Ray says as he and Joyce pass one another in Frank’s doorway. Frank’s noticed that about her.
Belker’s checking himself out in a mirror, because he’s wearing a suit and that’s weird. He checks in his gun with Leo, who doesn’t recognize him, and then starts making fun of him for being all dandied up. That gets Leo snarled at. Phil ambles along and is complimentary, which Mick appreciates. And then Phil informs Mick he’s involved in Operation Duckling, which deflates Belker in a heartbeat. He tries to duck out of it, telling Phil he’s got a date at six. Phil’s having none of it.
To the locker room. Bobby’s looking strangely into a mirror. Bates tells him how to purse his lips. Oh, dear. There are male cops in dresses. Yep, Operation Duckling is a sting to catch the Saint James rapist(s). Renko’s dress rips to shreds when he tries to adjust it. Belker’s dressed as a nurse, but refuses to shave his moustache. After a brief cut to Phil taking a call about a jumper and Henry fortuitously arriving with dog food, Frank addresses the collected undercovers in drag.
Fay arrives, and for once she’s not rattled and flustered. Since Frank’s tied up, Phil offers her coffee, but he’s got an ulterior motive. He needs to talk to someone. At first Fay thinks he’s having trouble “performing” with his high school sweetie, but it turns out Phil is talking about Grace. Boy, his sex life is awkward. The undercovers come traipsing through the squad then, to catcalls. A black guy tries to cop a feel on Bobby, who nearly knocks him unconscious by smacking him with his handbag, having forgotten his gun was in there.
Next we check in on J.D., who’s working at his brother-in-law’s car rental lot. A well-dressed black woman is desperately trying to rent a car because hers is in the shop, and Rob’s not letting her without a thousand-dollar deposit or a credit card with a massive limit. (Wow.) J.D. objects, trying to stick up for the lady, and he and Rob get into an argument while the lady storms out. Just as Neal shows up, J.D. takes his job and shoves it, telling Rob off. Neal gives LaRue some cash and tells him to just go chill out.
Henry arrives too late to do anything with the jumper, who jumped while he was en route. Officer Mike Perez, who we’re seeing for the first time, gives him the lowdown. Henry talks to Jeanetta Burns, the jumper’s sister, to find out why he jumped. Typical hard-times story, but Jeanetta’s only real show of emotion is when she snaps about the crowd telling her brother to jump. On his way back to the precinct, his tire blows out; while trying to fix it, some street thugs begin harassing him. He tries to be polite, but they steal his jack and begin threatening him, and he snaps, pulling his gun. But he gets in the car and drives off with a flat rather than actually doing anything, and the crowd mocks him.
Washington meets up with Furillo at Macafee’s house and they have words with his wife, Maureen. It’s all just idle chit-chat under the cover of Frank looking for Macafee. But afterward, we cut to the station where Macafee barges into Furillo’s office, irate. He even threatens Frank, in the “I’d like to meet you in a dark alley” sense. Frank is uncowed, and Macafee is coming unglued. On his way out, he has some words for Washington, too, racial epithet (“Sunburn”) included.
Henry makes it back, and someone’s helped themselves to his clearly-labelled orange juice that was in the fridge. He completely loses it, ranting about polite society and the like. Frank tries to calm him down, but Henry wants no part of it; he stalks out, and Frank sends Chesley after him, and tells Phil he’s not sure Henry’s in the right business. In the locker room, Alf and Henry have a good talk, and Chesley rightly gloms onto the issue: Henry can’t understand why people are horrible when he’s such a compassionate guy.
Meanwhile, Warnick’s stormed into the station to bitch at Furillo about Puerto Ricans stealing his hubcaps (while he was in the car!), and then tries to get Frank to get on board with J.D. pleading no contest and being shipped back to the police board for final dispensation… as part of a trade with Fitzgerald regarding a murder suspect, because Warnick’s in a hurry to get this pro bono case out of his hair. Frank is unimpressed with Warnick’s diligence on behalf of his client, and very, very tersely takes Warnick’s statement on the hub cap theft.
In walks Grace, and she’s tormenting Phil with every step. He clearly wore her out last night. Eyelash fluttering and nervous tics ensue.
Washington calls into Furillo. Detective Scanlon (not seen) trailed Macafee from Division to a condominium complex. On the way, he stopped at an Italian deli and a toy store. And then Neal drops the bomb: when checking mailboxes, a security guard showed up, and after being asked told Neal that Macafee lives there. Frank’s jaw drops, and he hangs up and beats feet.
In the command center for Operation Duckling, we hear over the loudspeaker that the rapist finally strikes — he’s got Bates. Ray frantically calls for backup.
Cut to a living room with a pretty Asian woman, some kids, and Macafee. Frank and Neal arrive, she answers the door, and Frank asks, “Mrs. Macafee?” Yup. Boom. She is utterly clueless, because why wouldn’t she be? And as soon as Frank enters Macafee’s field of vision, he knows the game is up.
They meet in Frank’s car, and Frank asks Macafee how he wants to handle the situation. Macafee jokes, “Cash?” Frank is, again, not impressed, although Macafee’s joking. The fallen detective tries to explain his situation, and the damnedest thing is that although he’s a bigamist and a dirty cop, he’s gone south because he’s trying to do right by his umpteen kids. Frank again presses on how he wants to handle it, and Macafee makes the mistake of trying to paint LaRue as still dirty. But Macafee realizes he’s screwed, and Frank tells him that someone’s got to explain all this downtown. He tells Macafee to do it himself, and quick, with an unspoken “or I will”.
The rapist gets brought in, and the entire squad is pretty hot because Lucy’s in the emergency room. Then Washington informs Belker, who is now wearing a toga, that he has a visitor: Debbie Kaplan, with whom he’s supposed to be going on a date. They seem to hit it off, and Neal makes fun of them, gently.
LaRue shows up at Frank’s door, wearing a police I.D. badge. He tries to play it off as a walk in the park, but Frank already knows he’s gotten his punishment: an official reprimand and six months probation. Badge and gun returned, J.D. is thankful. Phil arrives, and starts unburdening his problems to Frank. “I’m basically of the monogamous persuasion,” Phil tells Frank, and after the day he’s had the Captain has no choice but to offer a sly rejoinder: “You have no idea how refreshing that is to hear.”
Joyce is doing her toenails while Frank brushes his teeth. She gives Frank the win on the day, claiming she was convinced LaRue was guilty. She warns him, though, that it’s only a matter of time. They then have a snarky discussion about how they’d handle polygamy (with Fay and Fitzgerald as the putative thirds) while Joyce gives Frank a manicure, and then the phone rings. It’s Fitzgerald, and Joyce taunts Frank with a jaunty beginning to that conversation as the credits roll.
Look, Pizza Man: “Suffice it to say the issue here is not John LaRue’s innocence or guilt. The issue is how best to preserve what is already dangerously tainted bacon.” No, Joyce is not happy about being involved in this, not at all. Obviously, she has personal reasons (see pilot), but there’s also a sense that while she’s a public defender and fights for the innocent yadda yadda, she doesn’t care quite so much when it’s a cop.
Would You Prefer Internal Injuries?: “Can I ask you a personal question, Leo? Would you like a ruptured spleen?” Yeah, Mick will even threaten a fellow cop. But his real line of the episode is at the end, when he first lays eyes on Debbie: “You’re a real nice person. I mean, you’re much nicer than I ever expected. Uh, by that I mean you’re not a real dog.” Surprisingly, she takes this as the compliment he awkwardly intended…
I’m Unarmed: “What I have is this gun. Detective Henry Goldblume, Hill Street Station, and if you’re looking for trouble son, you’ve found it.” Henry’s sensitivity gets major play this episode, first in his conversation with Jeanetta and then when his tire blows out and the street roughs abuse him.
It’s never made clear until this episode, but we now know that Chesley is Goldblume’s partner. Their discussion in the locker room may be Gerry Black’s finest scene of the series, although I can’t confirm that until we reach the end of his tenure.
My Car!: “That’ll teach you to mess with my main squeeze, you animal.” Renko to the guy that Bobby nearly knocks out with his handbag.
Judas Priest!: James B. Sikking is absent this episode.
Mano a Mano: We only see Bates for a fleeting moment, but we sure hear her when she gets attacked in the park.
I’m Good For It: J.D. actually says those words to Rob as he’s trying to get him to rent the car to the spurned customer. LaRue is obviously coming apart at the seams.
What’s Up, Lover?: “I don’t have yours [number] yet, but I’m gonna stay on the line until I get it.” Neal’s cool as a cucumber response to Macafee’s threats, which include an open death threat. There’s also a very subtle turnaround on racism when Washington slowly and deliberately wipes the sleeve of his jacket off after Macafee’s had his grubby white hand there.
Neal also, despite all rational sense, forces J.D. to accept a loan from him after he blows up at Rob. One suspects Neal knows he’s never seeing that money again, but hey. Partners.
Not Now, Fay: Fay is, to our glee, perfectly normal in this episode. Funny, even. Her reactions to Phil’s two-women problem are sly and amusing.
Central Booking: Reprising their roles in this episode are Barbara Babcock, Dan Hedaya, Gerry Black, and Jake Mitchell. Mitchell returns next episode, while Black and Babcock will return later in the season in “Up in Arms” and “Life, Death, and Eternity”, respectively. Hedaya will also return one final time as Macafee in “Fecund Hand Rose”; but will make a season five appearance as another character entirely. Also reprising their roles, but making their final Hill Street appearances: Jonathan Dasteel and Gary Van Ormand as Lamonica and Sneed; it would be the final screen credit period for both actors.
Making single appearances in this episode were soap vet A.C. Weary as Bruce Warnick, Gilmer McCormick as Maureen Macafee, Marilyn Tokuda as the other Mrs. Macafee, and Patricia Gaul — who at the time was married to Jeff Goldblum, who himself had just come off his first major work co-starring with Ben Vereen in the short-lived Tenspeed and Brown Shoe — as “Thin Woman”. In an amusing coincidence, McCormick would later appear on the show I Had Three Wives, because being in an episode about a guy with two apparently wasn’t enough. Also making her sole appearance was Barbara Harris (credited as Barbara Bey), playing the customer at the car rental agency. Harris appeared in The Day After, then went on to do a good bit of voice work as well as building an extensive career as a casting director, focusing on voice casting.
Darwyn Carson appeared as Jeanetta Burns; she’d be back in season two’s “Personal Foul” in a different role. Joyce Mandel, uncredited but playing a prostitute, was certainly playing the same role when she made her return in season two’s “The Second Oldest Profession”.
Two other character actors made their first appearances in a string of “maybe they’re the same character, maybe not” twists. Ezekiel Moss (“Black Youth #1) would appear five times, while Reginald T. Dorsey (“Black Youth #2”) would appear four; both would return in the season finale, “Jungle Madness”, as “2nd Black” and “1st Black” respectively. So one might surmise that those roles, at least, are reprisals… as well as their joint appearance as bus robbers in season three’s “Eugene’s Comedy Empire Strikes Back”. In this episode, they’re the leaders of the bunch of guys who mess with Henry.
The blonde female detective (pictured here next to Grace) who has heretofore appeared in every episode but has had no lines and is never credited finally speaks — snidely saying hello to Grace; Grace responds with an icy “Hello, Morgan,” so we at least have a name to attach to her. We’ll solve this mystery eventually, I hope.
Tony Perez makes his debut as Office Mike Perez, a role he’d return for 20 more times through season five. He’ll return in season one’s penultimate outing, the two-hour “Rites of Spring”. Perez had, and has had, a long career guest-starring on television; Hill Street was his only major long-term role.
Gela Nash, credited as Gela Jacobson, gets her first turn as Debbie Kaplan. She’ll return three more times in that role, next in “Up in Arms”, and will also turn up once in the final season in a different role.
Rap Sheet: Thus ends the opening salvo; the first five episodes were all written by Kozoll and Bochco and directed by Butler, but things would change with the show moving into full production. Butler would return to the director’s chair one more time to helm “The Second Oldest Profession”. Kozoll and Bochco would take a brief respite, returning alongside Anthony Yerkovich to pen episode eight, “Up in Arms”.
Verdict: The Operation Ducking subplot is really not worth much other than laughs, and considering they’re trying to catch a rapist that sort of grates. That said, seeing Michael Warren in drag is pretty hilarious, and the visual of Belker in a nurse’s uniform with his big ol’ stache is a great visual.
Phil’s subplot, as creepy as the whole situation is, is acted beautifully all around. It’s weird to see Phil and Fay talking like a couple of female friends would, and it’s equally jarring to see Phil behave as a flummoxed teenager when Grace is basically oozing sex all over him.
Henry’s subplot is a vitally important piece of character-building. He is a sensitive guy. He’s compassionate, and as Alf notes he’s just full of love for everyone. But there’s a dark side to Henry Goldblume, a side which rages against all manner of injustices both large and small, both global and personal. And we’ll see more of that in the future. This episode’s detour was necessary in order to set that up.
Which leaves us the A-plot. Interestingly, LaRue has literally zero agency in all of this. He’s suspended, he’s shipped off to relax by his own partner, and everyone else is doing all the work trying to clear him. Now, this is important, because in the real world that is how it’s supposed to be. In any other cop show we’d have LaRue trying to clear his own name, likely getting himself into even deeper doo-doo in the process only to have it all swept under the rug at the end.
Not here. LaRue is on the bench, and once it’s all over he’s got a note in his jacket and six months of watching his own ass. Not everything about Hill Street is precisely realistic, but the handling of this storyline was mostly spotless. Mostly.
It’s the Macafee part that troubles. The whodunit with Macafee doesn’t really take that long in terms of scene time to uncover, but the scene where Furillo puts it together is nifty, and Washington’s reveal comes flying in straight out of left field. You’re busy wondering where all this guy’s money is going if he’s on the take, and bam.
But here’s the thing: in the end, it’s hard to believe that a dirty cop didn’t have someone, anyone, with a grudge that managed to at some point have him tailed. It’s hard to accept that he got away with bigamy for years and years in his position. If he were Joe Schmoe at the meat-packing plant? That’s one thing. This is another entirely, and the fact that it jars one’s ability to suspend disbelief is a strike. Not a huge one, but a strike nonetheless.
Final score: 7.
Next Week: “Film at Eleven”. The squad finds themselves starring in a reality show. Sort of.
