Homicide Rewatch: Fits Like A Glove

 

Written by Bonnie Mark ; story by Tom Fontana & Julie Martin

Directed by Ted Demme

 

In 1994 television had not yet created the serial killer procedural. The first series that would deal with it directly – Fox’s Millennium and NBC’s Profiler – were still two years out and neither would be huge commercial successes. Effectively they began to flourish in the craze that developed when CSI would debut in 2000, after which we would effectively be drowning them in network television, then in cable and eventually streaming. Most of them looked at the perspective of FBI profilers trying to track down clever killers with quirks who had the ability to get away with murders from law enforcement. These shows would spend a fair amount of time with the killers, many times making them more interesting then the detectives who hunted them. Eventually limited series and other shows would be devoted to the killers themselves, starting with Dexter and going on to this day.

Homicide would end up focusing many of its red balls on serial killers over the next five years but with a perspective almost never seen in any of the shows that followed it. It argued that so much of what we consider important about the serial killer is, in a very real sense, a creation of the media about which killings are important and which aren’t. (Simon would argue this in what the last season of The Wire, which at the time was considered the series weakest storyline.) What’s telling is that the detectives investigating what will be called ‘the white cotton gloves murders’ are aware of the media’s fascination and it infuriates them. This is made very clear in the interactions between Russert and Matt Rhodes, who has somehow learned of the white cotton gloves already and believes that ‘the public has a right to know’.

During this interaction –  by this point we know that this is a serial killer – we see the very clear battlelines between what the police consider important and what the media considers important. Matt Rhodes believes that the public needs to know about the fact that there’s a serial killer on the loose in Baltimore as a matter of public safety. Or at least that’s the argument he makes: we already know Rhodes is interesting in getting whatever ratings will come from this story and the notoriety that comes with it. Russert knows that the moment he reports this story, the squad will be flooded with false tips and any attempt to solve the murder will be impossible. The irony, of course, is that the bosses are more concerned with the media image that catching the killer. Even this early into the show’s run we know that appearances matter to the bosses more than results.

We’ve already seen how much pressure Russert is under from the bosses and by this point she has to deal with something even worse. Pembleton and Bayliss have gone back to the scene, found a potential crime scene where the murder could have taken place and learn that Gaffney was there – and chose to ignore it. Pembleton decides to go to first Giardello and then Russert.

The scene between Gaffney and Russert is incredible because you get the feeling it’s not even that uncommon in squad-rooms then or now. Russert points out Gaffney’s flaw and he is upset that Pembleton undermined him more than his mistake. He shows his clear bigotry and then Russert removes him from the case. Gaffney then doubles down, calling Russert essentially saying what the rest of the squad has been saying about Russert in the previous episode. With remarkable decorum she tells Gaffney he is suspended and is transferred out of the unit. (If only this were the end of the story.)

Afterwards Russert fumes with Giardello about the truly misogynistic behavior showed by Gaffney and how she had to just let it roll off her back. Giardello makes a similar comment “I’m the exceptional black man, remember?” This is the first time Giardello has referred to how his race has effected his ability to go his job, something he tries his best to hide. Not long after that Pembleton tells them that they’ve gotten another anonymous call about a second victim being dumped behind a church.

Pembleton is assigned as primary, in what is the official movement of Andre Braugher to the front of the show. The victim, Jennifer Lundy, is a Catholic who works in a pediatric ward, and like Goodrich is essentially the model of a saint. Pembleton theorizes that whoever the killer is they must hate Catholics. Then he goes to the body, performs the sign of the cross, and quotes Latin. “With God on our side, who can stand against us?”

Homicide has decided to make a very clear statement in its first serial killer storyline that is different from any other show: it makes the show about the detectives first, the investigation second and the killer itself is less important. When Pembleton goes to the morgue he is informed by Lausanne that in addition to everything else, he thinks that the victim was cleaned before she was dumped. Based on the severity of the murders Lundy should have been covered with blood but there’s none on the body and Lausanne tells him he took his time. “He was almost gentle as a lamb.”

Pembleton dwells on this and then makes a leap that the killer is Catholic. “He’s working something out; he’s spinning and now he’s spun right off the edge.” When Bayliss asks how Frank can know this, Pembleton says: “Takes one to know one.”

He then goes to the church to talk with Sister Magdalena. Ostensibly its to ask if she or Goodrich knew Lundy but the conversation takes a very different turn when Frank says that he thinks the killer is Catholic. He tells her about being raised in a Catholic schools for boys in the Bronx that was the first place in his life that he felt protected and safe. Magdalena asked him what happened next. “I went to a Jesuit high school. The Jesuits taught me how to think. I haven’t felt safe since.”

Another actor could have made that be simply a cynical throwaway. Braugher delivers it with genuine sincerity and almost mourning. Magdalena then asks him if he has considers that the killer is pure evil. He asks if she believes in that and she tells him yes. “So do I,” he says.

The episode then takes a grimly comic turn when Bolander gets a call from evidence control. “Someone wants to buy Katherine Goodrich’s white cotton gloves.” Pembleton and Bolander then meet Frederic Fuchs, who has more details about the killer than they do. He has killed three women in Council Bluffs, Iowa and two more in Butte, Montana. He then presents them with a glove from one of the previous victims which he cheerfully says he bought off one of the detectives. “I wanted to get both,” he tells them.

Fuches then shows them that he is a collector of serial killer memorabilia and says he has stuff from Ed Gein. “He was the inspiration for Psycho,” he tells Bolander. “I think I’m looking at one right now.” Fuches tells them that he follows killers, only the ones who are the most worthy of media attention, follows them on the internet and tells them that he has been corresponding with Jeffrey Dahmer and has bought some music. (It’s disappointing but he thinks it value will skyrocket if he’s executed.) He makes it very clear that he thinks their killer is remarkably clever and has the potential to be big.

Fuches is clearly a foreshadowing of the kind of fans of these killers that now deluge our culture. (You can see that he might very well be a technical adviser to so much of the work Ryan Murphy is doing for Netflix.) The detectives look at him the way most of us would: as a nut and very likely a possible killer. They are willing to follow up on the leads he gives them but once they learn he has an alibi the show dismisses him. To people like Fuches, this guy is someone to be valued. To Pembleton and the squad, he’s just another nut.

While this is a different kind of red ball then the ones we’ve seen before, the show makes it very clear that life doesn’t stop as a result. Howard is still dealing with the fallout from Felton’s marriage breaking up, and now she’s even more in the middle. Beth asks her to go for coffee and Beau asks her to tell her to string up Zach’s baseball glove.

Beth seems slightly more ordered in her conversation with Kay then the last time we saw here but she seems no more connected to reality. She tells Kay to tell Beau that she’s going to let him see his kids but that’s just a ruse to get him home so she can cook a meal and try and reconcile. (In case you forgot, the last time she saw her husband she cut one of his suits to shreds in front of him. She’s really running hot and cold.)

By this time it’s clear whatever affair was going on between Beau and Megan Russert has clearly been going on for a while, at least a few months. Even though Megan clearly comes from a higher station then him – she lives in a brownstone and has a nanny and Beau is clearly working class – it’s clear the relationship is very deep at least for Beau.

The storyline of a detective confiding in his partner about his affair is nothing new on series television but its different because the partner is female. When Beau tells her that he’s never felt this way and that Megan makes him think and feel things he’s never felt before, Howard reminds him that he has kids and people will get hurt. It’s possible she’s talking about her own involvement right now but there’s a deeper motive that will become clear in the conclusion of this arc.

The previous interaction between Beau and Beth seemed insane; this one speaks of domestic disorder. When Beau learns he hasn’t been able to see his kids, he shoves off Beth’s attempts to come in. She brings out Zach’s glove – “I couldn’t tie it right,” she says in the most genuine moment so far from her – and Beau makes it clear that he wants to move on, though he doesn’t reveal he’s with another woman. However the scene at the end of this shows the continued instability of Beth: she goes back into the house, cuts a piece of the pie she baked for her husband for herself and gives the rest to the family dog without a second thought.

And the storyline involving the purchase of the Waterfront continues. This time Meldrick makes it clear that they have to sign paperwork in order to get the liquor license. Tim is still insisting on being a silent partner and says to just fill it out and he’ll sign it. Meldrick then asks Munch if he’s ever been convicted of a felony. “No. Next.” Munch says all too quickly. Meldrick knows at least something of his new partner’s past, though what he’s concerned about is whether it is dealing marijuana. “I don’t care if you smoked it, I don’t care if you sold it, all I care is if you got caught.” In what will be against character Munch denies any criminal activity.

We get a very clear sign of Munch’s problem with authority when he and Meldrick are told they have to go to City Hall to meet with the notary. Munch chafes at being distracted from his job, at the power of the bureaucracy and his genuine distrust of authority. Meldrick tells him not to be that way. Naturally at City Hall he is. Then they learn one of the partners has a conviction for gambling. Lewis looks at Munch who says know “At least I don’t remember it” – but it’s Bayliss.

Bayliss was involved in a chain letter pyramid scheme when he was in college and its fascinating that Meldrick and Munch now seem less concerned about how this will affect their ownership of the bar then ragging Bayliss into how much trouble he’s now in for signing a false form. “You committed perjury,” Munch says. “And you know what that means, ten years at least,” Lewis says. Then they leave him to go back to work. Cut to Bayliss at City Hall, profusely apologizing to the notary, saying “we’re both city employees”, this is just a rough draft, etc. This is just funny.

The episode ends with two patrolmen having receive an anonymous tip to look at another dumpster behind a church. They are reluctant to open it, and even more reluctant to look at the victim’s hands. When they do, one of them tells the other: “Call Homicide. And ask for Pembleton.” Perhaps unintentionally the show is foreshadowing what the series will end up making its go to move for the next four seasons: for now, we’re dealing with another murder.

 

Notes From the Board

Detective Munch: In addition to the wonderful discussion involving the bar, we get a sense of the kind of often detached nature of Munch’s detective work. He and Bayliss leave a discussion of Goodrich’s boyfriend and he tells Meldrick: “She preferred the missionary position.” When Bayliss goes back in he asks him to find out if Goodrich ‘had an innie or an outie” Later on he tells them about a discussion of one of Goodrich’s former college classmates from Rosemont: “Girls from Rosemont who marry boyfriends from Villanova.” When it turns out he has nothing substantive to add, Bolander asks why he brought it up: “Texture.”

The next time we see Gaffney he will have been transferred to Missing Persons where he’ll stay for the next season until…no, I can’t. Not yet.

This is the first episode written by Julie Martin, who had previously been a staff writer for L.A. Law. She would be part of the writing staff until the end of the series. She would later go on to write for such shows as The Bedford Diaries, the critically acclaimed Kings and has been a staff writer for Law & Order SVU since 2011. She has written teleplays for every version of it between 2009 and 2025, including Criminal Intent and is currently one of the developers of Organized Crime.

Ted Demme was Jonathan Demme’s nephew and was only 31 when he directed his first episode of television. Known for his friendship with Denis Leary, he would direct him in The Ref and Monument Avenue his comedy special Lock N Load and his ’The complete collection’. He also directed such critically acclaimed movies as Beautiful Girls and Blow. Also an actor he died in January of 2002, one month before his last film movie John Q was released.