It might be preposterous, but it's a fairly accurate depiction of the twisted relationship Flemmi and Bulger develop with the FBI. Connolly and Morris have turned a blind eye to crime after crime—and murder after murder. Why shouldn't Flemmi believe that he has a license to kill? He certainly hasn't been treated like your average murderer.

Flemmi has no idea which way is which. Is he the informant? Or is he the FBI agent? It's hard to blame him for his confusion, however. By now, he's been living inside his FBI-maintained bubble for decades, so he hardly remembers what it's like to be an average, accused criminal.

Morris knows that he's done awful stuff and is rightfully ashamed. That's not much to write home about, but it's a lot better than Connolly, who pleads the Fifth in court so many times that his tongue probably has blisters. That guy can't say remorse, much less have it.