The Wire, Season Five, Episode 7

In which Clay Davis plays every card in the race deck, except, presumably, the King of Diamonds, because that's McNulty.

Summary: Davis beats the rap with the help of real-life Baltimore criminal defense attorney Billy Murphy, who once got Don King acquitted, so I'm guessing this wasn't much of a stretch. McNulty gets everything he ever asked for, with predictable results. Steintorf tells Carcetti he has no choice but to continue the homeless initiative, recalling the immortal words of Slim Charles at the end of Season Three.

Omar continues killing his way through the Stanfield organization, but is looking less invincible by the hour, with Kenard, as usual, calling out the truth. Saint Gus says to hell with the nut graf, go talk to the people! Kima sings the traditional Baltimore classic "Goodnight Fiends, Goodnight Hoppers" lullabye to Elijah, which the writer of this episode, Richard Price, borrowed from his book Clockers. I'm loading that into the MP3-enabled crib I buy for my kids, if and when I have some. I wonder if they'll sell it at IKEA?

Gratuitous, slightly jarring cameo of the week: Munch from Homicide. Poot, meanwhile, is clearly finalizing plans for his Michael Corleone-style simultaneous assassination of the entire board of the former New Day Co-Op.

Earlier in the season, State's Attorney OBonda turned down the opportunity to take the Clay Davis case federal with the "head shot" real estate charge. Oops! Lest anyone think the acquittal is implausible, I know several people who have worked in the Baltimore federal court system, and they all say this is the main reason cases up there go federal--avoiding jury nullification. While the state jury pool is local, federal cases draw juries from the whole northern half of the state, which means a black man from West Baltimore like Clay Davis who avails himself of his Constitutional right to a jury of his peers ends up being tried by an all-white jury comprised of people from the Eastern Shore and the westernmost rural counties of the state.

Also, there's a been a fair amount of bloggy discussion about whether Prop Joe really would have let himself get played like that. I think the answer is: sure. He wasn't ominiscient, he was thinking two steps ahead and Marlo was thinking three. Every day you play the Game, you put yourself in harm's way; Joe was lucky he lasted that long. Plus, much as I enjoyed Joe as a character, let's not forget that he was just as much of a dirtbag drug-dealing murderer as all the rest. He was smart, his families had roots in the community, he could have done a lot of things with his life and he decided to spend it spreading violence and poison throughout East Baltimore. Think about it: what was the practical result of Joe and Stringer's Co-op innovation? A smoother running heroin and crack distribution network, resulting in a more consistent supply of product, higher profits for the dealers, and lower prices and greater availability for the consumers. In other words, the worst possible thing for the community. Think of people like Bubbles, or Jonny (RIP), or the drug prostitute who kicked off an earlier episode this season. The Co-op meant more addiction, more death, more people becoming those people, and Joe was responsible. He got what he deserved.