Marty.
I apologise for breaking in.
I just had to find my boy here,
but FYI, once I got him, I came right back outside.
I didn't wanna be intrusive.
Big night, huh?
What do you want?
I couldn't do my job.
Everything I'd been dreaming about for four years,
back on the force, Chicago PD…
all I could think about was you people.
And then, I started thinking…
about this guy.
I mean, who doesn't ever fill a cookie jar?
What's with that?
And then, why give it to a kid?
Except, well, wait…
that kid loved your brother,
your brother wanted to run away, raise goats,
so I sort of got…
crazy obsessed with finding out
what's inside this cookie jar, you know?
If it's not cookies.
You know what the answer is?
Evidence.
DNA.
I mean, we're talking chunks,
bone, maybe even teeth.
Oh, that must be one seriously old-ass
crematorium you guys have.
-We can pay you. -Anything you want.
I don't want your money.
Name your price.
You can change your life.
You can change anyone's life you want.
Except your money's toxic.
But it won't be ours. It'll be yours.
Money doesn't know where it came from.
You don't get it, do you?
You don't get to win.
You don't get to be the Kochs or the Kennedys,
or whatever fucking royalty you people think you are.
World doesn't work like that.
Since when?