Homicide Rewatch: In Search of Crimes Past

 

Written by Jane Smiley; story by Henry Bromell & Julie Martin

Directed by Ken Fink

 

These days it's almost common for best-selling novelists to moonlight writing for television. David Simon would almost single-handedly start the trend when he recruited such brilliant mystery writers as Richard Price, George Pelecanos and Dennis Lehane to become staff writers for The Wire and all of them have written for television, both in collaboration with Simon and on their own projects. In the last decade many best selling novels have been adapted into limited series with the help of the original author to the point that there will soon be a third season of Big Little Lies when Lianne Moriarty finishes writing the story. And other writers from Elmore Leonard to Stephen King have adapted their own work for television in both series form ever since.

But thirty years ago, getting one to write the teleplay of a television series was a big deal. And not just any writer Jane Smiley, who had already won the Pulitzer Prize for A Thousand Acres in 1992 and had a future of best sellers ahead of her.  Smiley was known for writing novels set primarily in the Midwest and which were urban dramas in farming communities, hardly the kind of fiction that would be the kind of story you'd expect for a police procedurals. Even now I'm still not sure how much of what I see and hear in this episode comes from Smiley and how much was the dialogue of Bromell and Martin, who wrote the original story. (I have some ideas as to which parts Smiley might have written which I'll get to.) What I do know is that either way 'In Search of Crimes Past' is another quiet masterpiece in Homicide's lexicon, that goes against the fundamental idea of what so many later dramas would do with the exact same scenario that is at the center of the story.

This is an episode that starts with a deadline of death as we see news reports of the execution of Michael Bigelow. Bigelow was convicted of the murder of Peter Larsen even though the murder weapon was never found and Bigelow has maintained his innocence. We hear the backstory through Maria Delgado and it is familiar in many ways: his appeals have run out, the Supreme Court denied to weigh in and the Governor of Maryland had refused to stay the execution. We see a field of protestors against the death penalty outside the prison and we are told in seven hours Bigelow will be executed.

While we hear this a young woman in her twenties walks through the department, asking for Bolander. She then gets upstairs and says she wants to talk to the man in charge, the newly minted Colonel Bonfather. Then Russert comes down and tells us that Barnfather has been taken hostage and she wants to talk to Bolander. Everyone tries to track him down but there is some of the old self-mockery from Howard before the credits roll: "Has somebody checked the can?"

The woman is Lee Bigelow and she is demanding the execution be stopped or she will kill the colonel and then herself. Giardello goes over Russert's head about negotiating, arguing that she's dangerous. He sends Howard, Felton and Bolander along to reopen the investigation. Munch trails along. The computer files have nothing to help them so they end up going into the old filing room with seventy five years of files, with no particular rhyme or reason.

It's telling that  facing two deadlines the detectives are still joking. Howard says that Bonfather probably isn't bothered by a gun to his head. When Munch says he'd have to be made of stone, Howard says: "That's my point." Munch then jokes that if Granger was still in charge his heart with exploded. Felton said that would help their problems: "No leverage with a dead hostage." Not the kind of thing that we smiled upon at CTU.

While this is going on Lewis is called into investigate the suicide of a Jeffrey Zwick. This plays out in a typical Homicide fashion where a homeless man is wearing Zwick's shoes and says he'll tell Lewis what happen if he can keep them. Zwick apparently gave them and took out a gun to shoot himself. The homeless man says he asked if he wanted privacy and according to him Zwick said: "He didn't mind the company." There's something tragically sweet about this.

Meldrick is apparently unaware of what's happening in the squad, which would be impossible in a contemporary show but in Homicide is the norm. When he goes to see Terry, she says he left her a suicide note and a confession to the murder of Peter Larsen. Lewis brings it in to Bolander, who to this point is certain he did the right thing – but when he hears the details of the case as well as the murder weapon, he realizes this is no longer a fool's errand.

The detectives go to the Zwick household and find the murder weapon: a 3 wood. (Munch weighed in: "If it were me, I'd use a driver.") The evidence is enough to get a stay of the execution from a Baltimore judge. When Lee is pulled out and hauled away in cuffs, she's laughing hysterically: "I won! It took me sixteen years and a .38 but I won!"  That she has traded her freedom for her father's is irrelevant to her.

The crisis is resolved before the episode is even halfway over but it not the end of the story for Bolander. We see him going over his notes and he is more grouchy then usual: Jerry Zwick doesn't show up once. He worked this case thoroughly sixteen years ago and now he's faced with the fact an innocent man spent sixteen years in prison and was nearly executed. For his own peace of mind, he needs to find out why and this time he decides to look at it from the perspective of Jeffrey Zwick.

Eventually he tracks down the former bartender at the Old Elegant where both Zwick and Larson used to drink. The bartender is very reluctant to give any information. Finally Bolander gets him to talk and he says that Larson slept with Zwick's wife. Bolander is quietly furiously; he interviewed the man twice sixteen years ago and he wants to know why he never told him this. The bartender says three simple words that carry enormous weight: "You didn't ask."

I can't say for sure how much Smiley added to this part of the storyline and how much was Bromell and Martin's work. I suspect Bromell had something to do with putting Bolander at the center (he also wrote the story to the previous episode which also puts Bolander as its focus) but much of the idea of the plot has a bit of a novelist's twist. And watching Bolander in the bar, asking how many times he never asked the right question is a bit of introspection you'd expect of a novelist.

I have a feeling that much of Smiley's influence can be found in the B-plot which involves Pembleton and Bayliss investigating the suspicious death of seventy-five year old Martha O'Donnell. Marha has apparently drowned in her bathtub but for most of the episode it's not clear if it’s a homicide. Bayliss Is the primary and he wants to pursue this matter for reasons that irk Frank slightly but not in the antagonistic fashion we're used to. In fact that's the reason I suspect Smiley wrote most of the story and dialogue because our two favorite detectives are more winsome then usual in their banter with none of the button pushing you expect from them.

The story deals with Martha and Sam, who were married for fifty years and it's hard to know why the death happened. This leads to them thinking about the length of time. Tim tells a story about his great-grandparents that sounds like something out of a novel. He says they were married for sixty four years on his deathbed his great-grandfather said to his great-grandmother: "I wish I'd never married you." Her last words to him: "So do I."  There's so much to unpack in that and of course we move on.

When Frank says there's no financial reason for the murder Tim puts forth that maybe this is a crime of passion. Frank laughs at the idea but Tim talks about it with devotion and humor. When Frank says with affability that he can picture Tim being one of those dirty old men at a nursing home, Tim says cheerfully it beats playing golf.

As the detectives talk to the neighbors (including a gay couple!) you see that Sam and Martha's relationship was never really loving and that Martha seemed to be judgmental and almost a crone. Eventually after talking to enough people they end up reaching an 'old friend of Sam's': Isabella Kunkel.

After talking to Isabella (who wonderfully thinks the two are Jehovah Witnesses first) she tells them that Sam and she were childhood sweethearts. After Sam went into the army she married someone else, moved to San Francisco and fifty years later after her husband died, she moved back to Baltimore. She looked up Sam and Martha and they became friends – and Sam asked her to marry her yesterday.

Both detectives clearly suspect what's going on but they're talking about their first loves and the names and then Tim says his first crush was his second grade teacher, who he thought never knew about it. Frank points out he couldn't fool a woman as a grown man he couldn't do it in second grade. They start bickering like the Tim and Frank of old – and then Tim gets the toxicology report. Martha O'Donnell did drown in her bathtub but in her blood was a lethal dose of sedatives. They know what it means.

Frank and Tim with more reluctance then usual go to a club where Isabella and Sam are dancing. Sam clearly knows what's coming and confesses that Isabella had nothing to do with it. It was a crime of passion; Sam never got over his first love, something that Isabella is clearly scarred by. When Tim asks why Sam didn't just divorce Martha, his answer has something that could be either Smiley or Homicide: "I didn't want to hurt her feelings." He asks the detectives for one last dance with his love before he goes to prison and they grant it.

What is probably the funniest storyline of the episode involves Munch – but for once he's basically playing straight man. Without the consent of his partner he's hired a new bartender for the Waterfront, played by that other comic genius Jerry Stiller. Stiller is an Irish bartender full of blarney. He convinces Munch to invest a lot of money into brewing their own specialty beer: "Waterfront Gold Premium." This is actually ahead of the curve but Munch is reluctant to go along – with good reason. "Waterfront Gold Swamp Water!" he says when he takes the first sip.

They've already promoted it as part of 'Ladies Night' and the Bartender says until we perfect this "we'll sell Heineken under our old label for $1 a glass." On that night, as he starts casually breaking glasses because they're not good enough for beer, the bar is full of fat men instead of women. "No doubt they're a little relieved," he says. Not long after that a barfight breaks out and the Waterfront is wrecked. Munch doesn't even get to fire him because he's been hired at a better bar. "Talk about failing up!" he shouts at Lewis.

In the wreckage of the Waterfront Bolander shows up and demands a bourbon or "he'll wreck this place again."  He pushes off Munch's concerns and starts swigging down drinks. I wonder if this is part of the work of Smiley as well: an old detective standing in the wreckage of the bar beginning to wonder if this could represent his own life at this age. (That Bolander will soon be written out of the show is a coincidence that Smiley, like the other writers, could not foresee.)

The episode ends with the prisoner being moved to pre-trial detention. Even though the execution has been stayed, there will have to be another hearing to let Bigelow go. "Sixteen years and the guy still has to wait" Lewis says. He and Stan are outside the prison as Bigelow is being moved. For the first time the two men look at each other. Bolander recognizes Bigelow but there's no sign of any recognition – or anything – on the prisoner's face. Justice has not been denied but it seems that it will just keep being delayed.

 

NOTES FROM THE BOARD

Detective Munch: As I said, most of the good lines are watching Munch react to the actions of other people, particularly Stiller's bartender. We get a sense of his own willful blindness when he talks about the cheerful nature of his customers on Ladies' Night and then notes the scuffle that's brewing. "Duck!" he says just as a glass heads his way. The brave Homicide detective remains there as the brawl unfolds.

Hey, Isn't That… Jerry Stiller was already becoming known to the masses for his work as Frank Costanza on Seinfeld during this period but famously he was part of the comedy team Stiller and Meara in the 1950s. (His wife Anne Meara will also show up on Homicide; I'll deal with their famous offspring then.) The two of them appeared on the Ed Sullivan show 36 times.

Stiller's career stretched back to Studio One and General Electric Theater and he worked on his own throughout the 1970s, playing different roles on Phyllis and Rhoda, All in the Family and Archie Bunker's Place. His first regular role was Sid Wilbur on Nick & Hilary in 1988. He finally played Frank Costanza in 1993 and would appear 26 times on the show. Eventually he would be cast as Arthur on The King of Queens which would run for nine seasons. His last role was Maury in Zoolander 2. He died in May of 2020 at age 92.

Barnard Hughes has been acting for 47 years before he played Sam O'Donnel on Homicide, his career stretching back to roles as on soap operas like Guiding Light and as the World Turns. There were very few shows on TV that he didn't make a guest role on and he had small but critical roles in Midnight Cowboy, Paddy Chayefsky's The Hospital and Oh, God. He didn't become famous until he appeared in Tron and when he played Grandpa in The Lost Boys (he delivered the classic last line) He actually got better roles as he got older, playing Henry Stimson and William Casey. He found celebrity in his later years playing Buzz, the grandfather of Blossom in the 1990s classic sitcom. He died in 2006, just five days short of turning 91.

Maria Delgado mentions that Bigelow is going to be the second man executed by the state of Maryland in the last 34 years. This explains why prior to locking up Glenn Holton Bolander was so cynical about the idea of him getting the death penalty. He knew that sixteen years after locking up Bigelow, he was still on death row waiting for the appeals to run out.