All language subtitles for friday.foster.1975.remastered.1080p.bluray.x264-gazer

- Let me speak to Shawn, please.

Yes, I know it's New Year's Eve.

It's my New Year's Eve, too,

and I wouldn't be calling
him if it wasn't important.

Listen, you tell Shawn that Monk Riley,

his editor, his commanding
officer, his boss,

says it's a matter of life and death, his!

And if I don't reach him, good-bye.

- Cleve, get the phone for me, will you?

- Hello.

No, it's her brother.

It's your boss!

- Shawn?

Why would he be calling
me on New Year's Eve?

- No, it's not Shawn!

It's the H.N.I.C,

The head nigger in charge!

- Mr. Riley?

Mr. Riley.

Happy New Year, boss.

If it's Shawn you're looking for, I don't-

- I don't want Shawn.

At this point, I want you.

- Oh, boss, I didn't know you cared.

- This is serious, Friday.

I can't reach anyone else,

so I want you to grab a pencil and paper

and listen very carefully.

- All right, hold up.

OK, all set, boss.

- Friday, I want you to
take your little camera

and shoot your little pictures

and get the hell out,

and don't get involved, understand?

- Now, you know I wouldn't
do anything like that.

Get involved with who?

Blake Tarr?

The Blake Tarr, The billionaire?

The brother they call
the black Howard Hughes?

Well, why would he be coming back here

after all these years?

- Don't wonder, Friday.

Just take your cute
little behind out there

and get those pictures.

And god damn it, don't get involved.

- Cleve, catch that, will you?

What do you have in
that closet, a Cadillac?

I'll get it.

- Hello.

Yeah, it's Cleve.

It's Cloris!

- Not now.

- She sounds funny.

- Happy New Year, Cloris.

Hey, I can't make it to the party.

But I can't!

- Please?

I've got to talk with you.

There's nobody else who can help.

It's a matter of-

- Look, I'd like to, but I just can't.

Something's come up, and
I can't get out of it.

It's important to me.

- Friday, please.

- Look, let me call you
as soon as I get back, OK?

Happy New Year, Cloris.

Attention, please.

Attention, please.

Flight 502 now loading at gate five.

Attention, please.

Attention, please.

Flight 106 is now departing.

Attention, please.

Flight 106 now departing at gate seven.

Immediate departure.

- Leroy!

Leroy, I got enough stuff
for us to last us for days!

Oh, you're not Leroy.

- No, I ain't Leroy.

- Well, he must be working at
the other gate, I'll check.

- Hold tight, baby.

No visitors allowed in there.

- Oh, my old man's working tonight.

- It's New Year's Eve.

- Come on. I just want to find out

what time he's getting off.

- Oh, yeah, OK.

- Hey, why don't you keep
this, have a little taste?

Come on, come on.

Try it, come on!

All right?

And I'll go and find out
what time he's getting off,

and we'll come back, and we'll all party.

- Party!

- Party, yeah!

- Hey, miss!

Next time, ask for
somebody other than Leroy.

He don't work here.

Ha ha, Happy New Year!

- Turkey.

Oh, my god!

- Hey, you!

- Chet.

Thank god.

You're not doing that anymore,

not for Black Widow,
not for black nothing!

Chet.

Chet.

Chet!

Chet!

- Cloris, hey, I'm finished.

I'm back, I'm at the office.

I'll be over as soon as I can.

- That's all right.

You don't have to.

- I know it's all right,
but I thought you said-

- Look, it's over.

Don't come here.
- What's all over?

I thought you want-

- Friday, don't come here.

- OK, well, OK!

Look, I'll see you tomorrow
at the fashion show.

Bye.

Mr. Riley, I've got a couple more.

Now, look at these.

- Good.

Good.

Some of these are great!

Now, if we can just find
one that shows for sure

that's Blake Tarr and nobody else.

- This one.
- Hey, Monk!

I got this frantic message

that you were looking
all over town for me.

- Well, the late Mr. Shawn north,

demon photographer.

What are you doing working on C.P. time?

- Ah, come on, Monk,
this was New Year's Eve.

Was it something important?

- Would you say the
world's richest black man

coming home important?

- Blake Tarr?

- Or would you say three hit men

waiting to kill him important?

And a shoot with Tarr
wounded and maybe dead,

is any of that important?

You tell me.

Well, I'll tell you.

It was damned important.

The biggest story of the year,

and I'm forced to send

miss total involvement here,

who almost got herself
killed by an assassin

getting these photos!

- Oh, boss, I-

- Friday, I told you.

- Hey, I know this guy.

- Who's he?

- I don't know, but
I've met him somewhere.

You just don't forget the fine ones.

- I'm going to park here for a moment

while I run my game.

- It's your show, fancy man.

- Hey, young blood, where is your sister?

- She'll be right down in a minute.

Whatcha got this time?

- Chanel No. 5.

- Damn, man, why can't you get something

from Tiffany's or Gucci?

- Gucci?

Nigger!

Man, I don't mess with them Italians.

I'll take it up to her.

All right.

All right.

- Fancy, she just loves your presents!

- Gucci?

- Oh, is my taxi here yet?

- Yeah, he's waiting downstairs.

I'll be right there.

- OK, you got your house key?

- Yeah, I got it.
- OK.

Stay out of trouble!

- At your service, sweet thing.

- Well, if it isn't King Faruk

and his bevy of beauties.

Have you seen my taxi, Fance?

- You don't need no taxi.

Where to?

- Well, Rena's, now that you mention it.

- Hey, well, that's all right.

You're going to check out
some fine leathers and stuff?

- Uh, Fance, I hate to tell you this,

but some of do work once in a while.

- Why?

- Well, welfare is just not my style.

- Well, I got your style, sweet thing.

See, you are wasting your pretty face

and all of your real talents.

- Fancy, there is nothing
you have that I want,

and I don't hustle for nobody.

- Hustle?

Them white boys

will be tearing down the
doors to get next to you.

And we could have our thing, too.

- Oh, nigger, please.

You have lost your mind.

- My bitches, ladies don't think

that their nigger has lost his mind.

With them bad rags, tough pad,

I mean, some heavy blow and a boss ride.

Shit!

And each and every one

has got her own personal
health and welfare plan.

- You have lost your mind, you know that?

- But you got to admit, my shit is heavy.

- Charley, listen to me.

Please.

Please.

You have got to get him to help me,

before the police come.

Charley, don't hang up.

Charley, please.

Charley!

- Cloris.

Girl, when I tell you what happened,

you will not believe.

What's wrong?

- Oh, Friday, it doesn't matter.

- What?

- I knew I was doing wrong,

but I just kept getting
in deeper and deeper.

Well, last night, he...

- Oh, it's a he.

Come on, what's his name?

- Listen, will you stop it, please?

- Cloris, what is wrong with you?

- I told you last night it was all over,

so let's just forget about it, OK?

- So there you are!

Come on, Cloris.

Let's get you out of this
and into your first outfit.

What do you think, the
only thing we have to do

is dress your bod?

- Well, look who's here.

- Oh, Shawn, I'm sorry.

I had to go backstage to see a friend.

- If you cared anything
about your job with me

instead of dating every
hand writer in town,

drinking, playing around,

and staying out all night,

- Now, look here, Shawn North,

you knew where I was last night,

and furthermore,

Nonviolence.

Besides, it's too nice
a day, too nice a place.

Besides, any closer, and
his mother would disown him.

- Sorry about that.

What are you doing here
at this fashion show?

- What all private eyes do.

Watch an unfaithful wife cheat
on her unfaithful husband.

All right.

Well, for a moment there,

I thought you switched on me.

- No way.

I'm on my j-o-b.

- Well, it's nice work if it pays well.

- It pays well.

- All right, see you later.

- How about you and me
getting on our j-o-b?

I'll take a 48 mag on that,

and we'll shoot black
and white in the Nike.

Ladies and gentlemen,

may we present the
magnificent Madame Rena.

- Hello, ladies and gentlemen.

Well, hello, George.

You're looking absolutely fantastic.

How do you manage it?

Oh, hello, Cleo.

You're here to steal my originals again,

aren't you, darling?

Ladies and gentlemen, welcome, welcome.

Today I have for your perusal,

and I'm quite sure your approval,

one of my most fantastic
original collections,

and I choose to call it
Sapphires and Sisters.

We're all familiar with the joy of sex,

particularly since that
doctor has determined

that sex is on the male's
mind every other minute

and on the female mind every other second.

Well, I've put it all
together in one group,

which I call the four seasons of s-e-x.

- Not exactly subtle, is she?

- She never was, even when
I was modeling for her.

- Cloris!

Where's Cloris Boston?

Has anybody seen Cloris?

She should be here.

Cloris?

- Oh, but that's only our beginning.

The best is yet to come.

I would like now to present

my most fantastic creature,

A superior being, a vision
of Africanic beauty,

a black goddess come to earth,

Miss Cloris Boston as Kalahari Sunrise.

Kalahari Sunrise!

I said Kalahari Sunrise.

- Something's the matter with Cloris.

Cloris.

Oh, Cloris, why?

- Operator, connect me with the police.

- Why?

Why?

- I, wanted to ask you

to save Chet,

They,

the Black Widow.

- Cloris.

Cloris!

Someone call an ambulance!

Please!

Cloris!

- Tell the body snatchers
they can take this one away.

Now get on it.

Colt, you phoned it in, right?

What put you on the scene?

Get your rocks off at
fashion shows these days?

- You know something, Lieutenant?

I'd rather spend my time
looking at the live ones

than going around the city

picking up the dead ones
like you do for low pay.

Besides, I'm better-looking than you are.

- Well, you may have a point there.

Maybe that's what's ruining my stomach.

Got any ideas who did it?

- Why don't you ask Ford Malotte?

- Who's Ford Malotte?

- Some son of a bitch

who's been trying to ruin me for years!

He's been stealing my designs

and selling them for ready-and-wear!

- Is he a designer, too?

- That's what he calls himself,

but this plastic faggot
couldn't design a handkerchief,

let alone a dress!

The only thing he can do is steal from me.

- So you think he killed this girl, huh?

- Well, let's put it this way.

This ill excuse of a human being

has had this girl on a regular basis

coming and going between here and D.C.

He might have thought she knew too much.

- Hey, kid.

I'm looking for a Miss Friday Foster.

Yeah, she's my sister.

- No kidding.

Well look, I'm from Ace Photo Shop.

See I got this camera she ordered,

and she's got to sign for it.

- She's upstairs in 807.

Go on up.

- All right.

Thanks, little brother.

- Cleve, get the phone for me!

Cleve!

Get the phone!

Could you get the phone for me?

- Lord have mercy!

You entertain in the
middle of the daytime, too?

Y'all is too much!

- Are you sure you've got
the right man, Friday?

- It's the same man I
bumped into at the airport.

- What we've got here,
an attempted murder,

an assassination,

and a stiff full of bullets

at that Cloris girl's apartment.

- Wait, what do you mean, stiff?

- Somebody named Chet Freed.

- Chet Freed, that's Cloris'
boyfriend from out of town.

Jake, he's a part of the trio

that tried to kill Blake Tarr.

Then that's why she called me.

- You want to tell me how
long she's been dealing?

- Dealing, oh come on.

Now what are you trying to say?

- Wait a minute, was she a junkie,

or was she pushing, or what?

- You school me.

We found 50,000 uncut
pure junk in her bedroom.

Now how does that read?

- That's a lie!

Cloris was a little wild.

She might have had a few heavy
boyfriends here and in D.C,,

but she was not dealing!

No way!

I knew her.

Jake, she was my friend.

- Friends in D.C.?

What kind of friends?

Politicians, maybe?

- I don't know.

- Do you know anyone who would invite her

to a big-time party?

We found an invitation
made out to her name.

Now, who were some of her friends, honey?

- I don't know them personally.

Publicly, maybe?

- I don't know anything about that!

- Then she was killed because of the junk.

- No.

Believe me this time.

She was not into dope.

That was not her thing.

- Then why was she killed, honey?

- I think the man has a point.

- Sure wish I had some beer.

O Lord,

I give to you the soul
of this young woman,

a child of God who always
held out her hand to others,

who always gave and never asked in return.

We ask Thee, Almighty God,

to love Cloris as we have loved her

and take her into your kingdom.

The Lord is my Shepherd.

I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

- Excuse me a minute.

- He leads me beside still waters.

He restores my soul.

He leads me in the path of righteousness

for His name's sake.

Even though I walk through the valley

of the shadow of death,

I fear no evil,

for Thou art with me.

Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me.

Thou preparest a table before me

in the presence of my enemy.

Thou anointest my head with oil.

My cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

all the days of my life,

- It's him, Colt.

- It's who?

- It's, it's...

That's funny.

- I don't see anybody.

- Now let's get this straight.

You say some gal stole the hearse?

- That's right.

- How do you suckers find these problems?

Any idea who she was?

- Look, lieutenant,

all I know, it was a
black female, about 5'7".

If I might say so, she
was kind of attractive.

Oh, yeah.

She had this large bag
hanging over her shoulder.

- A camera gadget bag?

- Exactly.

Colt!

Is Friday into stealing hearses now?

- Come on, Lieutenant.

You know better than that.

She must have spotted someone

from that Tarr shooting at the airport.

She grabbed the first
thing available, a hearse.

What are you going to do,

stick her in the ground for it?

- Man, the gal's got
more balls than brains.

She nuts or what?

- She's just all woman, lieutenant.

- Damn, I need a beer!

Hey!

- Hold it right there, lady!

- Oh, thank god, the cops.

There's a guy back there
who's trying to kill me.

- Right, sure.
- Against the wall, mama.

- But you're gonna let him get away!

Oh, no!

- Come on, higher.

- He's the one that-
- Hands up.

- He tried to kill Blake Tarr.

He's the assassin!

Oh, god!

- Maybe we should send for
a matron to search her.

- Oh, man!

- You had no right to do that, Friday.

Stealing a hearse, for Christ's sake,

and destroying public property

and losing a $600 camera.

Is that your way of not getting involved?

- Mr. Riley, it was the man that-

- And do you know what it cost "Glance"

to keep you out of jail?

And what it's liable to cost us

if that funeral director

decides to sue or press charges?

- There was nothing else I could do.

- Yeah, and my old man
invented the cotton gin.

Can't you get it under your skull, Friday,

that your life is in danger

and that somebody is trying to kill you?

- So you're out of the slammer.

I thought I wouldn't see
you until visiting hours.

How was the bread and water?

- You got something for me, Colt?

- That's depending on whether or not

you didn't spend up all your money

on lawyers and bail bondsmen.

I might look into something for you

in Washington, D.C., tomorrow.

- Like what?

- Like a bunch of flowers

sent to Cloris Boston's
funeral from a no-name friend.

Friday saw it.

Tell me, do you know a
fellow named David Lee Hart?

- The senator?

- You mean Cloris Boston
had a senator stashed away?

- Sure.

Cloris had quite a few friends in D.C.

She would fly down there
for these weekend dates.

Some brother named Ford
Malotte set them up.

- Now that's a coincidence.

He's the man,

and I use the term loosely,
that I'm going to see.

- Well all right, when do we go?

- You're not going anyplace.

- Aw, Mr. Riley,

- No way.

- Oh please.

I gotta find out who killed Cloris,

I want to know about
this Black Widow thing,

and I want to prove that
she was not dealing.

- What you really want is Senator Hart

to send you some flowers for your funeral.

Here's the print.

Clear as a bell.

The blow-up came out perfect.

- It's him!

This is the man that's
been trying to kill me!

- Let's get a print of this
to the police right away.

I want this guy caught

before he catches up with Friday.

- But, Monk, now you see
why I have to go to D.C.?

- Friday, there's absolutely no damn way

that you or "Glance Magazine"

is goin' on a manhunt to Washington,

and that's the bottom line!

You might as well forget it.

No way.

No way!

- For god's sake, Friday,

couldn't we have met him on a park bench?

Why this place?

- Would the White House Lawn

suit you better, Mr. Hawkins?

- Anywhere is better than this.

And besides, since you've brought me here,

I'm beginning to wonder about you, Friday.

- Don't be afraid.

I won't bite you.

This is a public place.

You'll be all right.

- Yeah, but I think I'll need protection.

Oh, Jesus.

- Excuse me, miss.

Could you,

Could you tell me where I can find

Ford Malotte, please?

- Maybe.

What's your business, sweetie?

- Just tell him that Friday Foster is here

from "Glance Magazine.".

- He's right over there.

- His muscles are bigger than mine.

- And that's not all.

Um, Ford Malotte?

- Coochie coochie.

- Friday Foster from "Glance Magazine.".

- How are you, darling?

It's always so nice to meet
someone from the press.

And who is he?

- Colt Hawkins, private investigator.

Oh, do be seated.

Oh, yes, darling.

Sit down.

I hate cliches, so I won't use any now.

- No, yes, I know.

The "what's it all about" bit, right?

- Yes, it's been done to death.

- And so was Cloris.

- Oh, yes, I, Heard about it.

Some, uh, lieutenant Jake Wayne

called me about it earlier.

Ah, Cloris.

A marvelous girl.

I mean, nobody, nobody could wear things

the way she could,

with a body put together in heaven

with tender, loving hands.

And to think that that simple policeman

would intimate that I would
terminate such a talented girl.

I'm afraid that's impossible.

That's a private party, that reception.

- Oh, Malotte, you've
booked dates for Cloris

with government VIPs and senators.

Now, why can't you do it for me?

- But that was different.

She had that, uh, touch.

- Look, Malotte, Cloris
and I grew up together.

We were like sisters.

If she can be invited to
this reception, so can I.

- Interesting.

Maybe.

With the right gown and a new coiffure,

you might pass for her,

but there's no way.

- You know, there is some reason

why you don't want me at this reception.

Are you afraid that Black
Widow might be there?

- You know about Black Widow?

Friday, darling, when
you are fooling around

with ambitious men like Senator Hart,

it can be hazardous to your health.

Take my advice, stay out of it.

Go back.

Go home.

Get laid.

Have a baby, or something.

- What you're trying to say
is you won't help us, right?

- Sweetie, tell your
liberated little woman

that I can't possibly.

- With or without your help, Mr. Malotte,

I am going to be at that reception!

- Well, suit yourself, sweetie.

Isn't she marvelous when she's mad?

- Uh, Friday, just a moment.

I want to stay and talk to Mr. Malotte

and ask him a few questions,

Man to man.

Taxi!

Taxi, taxi!

Oh, shoot.

- Colt!

Oh, Colt!

Colt-
- Are you all right?

- He was trying to kill me, Colt.

- Did you get a look at him?

Do you know who he was?
- No.

- We're not gonna find
the reason out here now.

Look, come on.

Let's get out of here.

- I didn't want to bother you with it,

but when the girl showed up here

and she knew about Black Widow,

I thought, well, this
could really cause trouble,

all kinds of trouble.

I mean, look,

It's all right for you to sit up there

on your high throne and feel safe.

- You did right to call,

but the girl can't know too much.

Now you listen to me.

She won't hinder us.

There's too much at stake.

Don't worry about it.

I'm on top of it.

- Thank you, Jeeves.

- You know something, Friday?

I don't think we should
go through with this.

I don't like it.

I don't feel right about it.

- You know what?

You're right.

You put the dress and you go on in there.

- Now that's not funny.

You know there's trouble in there.

You could be hurt or
something in there, danger.

- You know you love me.

Where's the invitation?

- That's right, the invitation.

- Oh, you didn't.

- I got it.

Here it is.

- You scared me for a moment.

Oh, boy.

Are you sure this is going to work?

- Well it ain't the size of the ship.

It's the motion of the ocean.

- Well, watch this ocean.

Man, that's some fine
lady you working for.

Say, man, what's she into?

- Oh, well, she's into, uh,

well, you know, she's, uh...

- Oh, don't bother to announce us.

Just tell my husband I'll
be in the powder room.

You must be the Reverend Noble Franklin.

- Why, yes.

My, my, you are an attractive young lady.

- Why, thank you, Reverend Franklin.

- Oh, just call me Noble, sister.

You see, I'm not one
to stand on ceremonies.

Now, what can I do for you?

- Uh, oh, it's so silly.

- Speak up, sister.

I'm a very understanding
man, very understanding.

- You see, I'm a church
reporter for our newsletter,

and I would love to do a story
and take pictures of you.

No problem at all.

Where's your camera?

- You see, that's just it, I forgot it,

and I could just kick
myself for being so...

Oh, I see.

Don't worry about it.

See, I can set up a
special appointment for you

up at Jericho.

- Uh, Jericho, where's that?

- That's my estate, my
meditative retreat up the river.

And, uh, we could spend
some time for, uh, purposes.

You understand.
- Well, you know,

then again, reverend, I'm not so sure.

- Reverend Franklin not only
has a way with a prayer,

but beautiful women, as well.

I don't think I've had the pleasure.

- Oh, yes, Senator hart,

I want you to meet miss Friday Foster,

a very, very pretty church reporter.

- And what church are you a reporter for?

- Well you see, Senator Hart,
that's not exactly the truth.

I really came here to see you,

regarding a mutual friend.

I'm sorry we missed you at the funeral.

- Funeral?

Whose?

- Cloris Boston.

- I think we ought to get
to know each other better.

Excuse us, reverend.

- Sure, and you still have an invitation

to come up to Jericho,
you fine sister, you.

- Your flowers were a comfort to Cloris.

- It was the least I could do.

She was a friend.

- Just a friend?

But that's not what the
D.C. grapevine says.

- A smart girl like you

shouldn't believe in gossip, should you?

- Excuse me, David.

I spoke with the congressman,

and he has agreed to the meeting.

- Good.

Uh, Friday Foster, this
is my executive assistant

Mr. Charles Foley.

- Miss Foster.

- Mr. Foley.

- Uh, Charles, miss Foster
and I are going to my place

to, uh, discuss some mutual interests,

so watch the store, will you?

- Yes, sir.

Nice meeting you, Miss Foster.

While you're in Washington,

if I can be of any assistance whatsoever,

feel free to call.

When you do, just ask for Charley.

- Thank you.

I'll remember that, Charley.

After one divorce
and 12 years in Washington,

one gets to know his people.

More Brandy?

- More Brandy and I might
lose all my inhibitions.

Maybe worse.

Look what happened to Cloris.

- Cloris was only a pal.

Just a friend.

So we made it a few times,

but our relationship was only physical.

I'm really sorry about what happened.

If I could change it, I really would.

Will you believe me?

Trust me?

- Then you can start trusting me.

You can tell me what the hell is going on.

- OK.

Find yourself a certain Mr. Blake Tarr,

and it will all come as
clear as Monday's wash.

I'm told he's the man behind it all.

- Now, why would he plan
his own assassination?

- It's all part of a big power play

to make you believe
it's something it isn't.

- And what's your power play?

Are you something you're not, too?

Now, what will all the gossips say?

- Oh, they will probably
say that I made love

to one of the most beautiful
women D.C. has ever seen.

- You're very sure of
yourself, aren't you?

- Aren't you?

- When I think about it,

it's just as well the girl wasn't killed.

You really think so, huh?

- Here you are, sir.

- I thought you said she
came from "Glance Magazine."

- I did.

It seems she came to Washington,

bluffed her way into the reception

specifically to meet with Senator Hart.

It seems she tied the murder of her friend

to the senator.

- Well, did the senator tell her anything?

- No.

- Well, that's good, isn't it?

Did she tell the senator anything?

- Only that she'd heard about Black Widow.

- Aren't you worried about that, Charles?

- That's why I think
she can be of use to me,

if the senator will go along,

and I think he will, or
else I'll have to tell him

how those thousands of
contributors to his campaign

is really just one big contributor,

Enos Hartman Griffith,

who is now willing to go along with me.

- Well, by herself, she's nothing,

but with "Glance Magazine" behind her,

she may be able to help
you flush out Blake Tarr.

- The senator has already
put a bug in her ear.

He said that Blake Tarr is
the one that can tell her

about the murder of her friend Cloris.

- Well, he's certainly right about that,

isn't he, Charles?

- Blake Tarr is the answer
to all our problems,

Mr. Griffith.

- Well, that's what the
senator said, Mr. Riley.

His office would give us full cooperation.

- Why don't you put some
sugar in your cereal?

- Nah, I don't like it too sweet.

Hey, Blackhawk, you got any money?

- I've got barrels of it, why?

- I got some dynamite
perfume, out-of-sight watches,

ladies' lingerie,

and a whole lot of other stuff for sale.

- So now you're hustling, huh?

- Nope, strictly black capitalism.

- If "Glance" doesn't want the story,

then maybe somebody else will!

- Why'd you do that?

Why'd you hang up on him?

Call him back.

- Why should I call him back?

He doesn't care!

I've tried so hard!

- Well, you're going
to have to try harder.

Come on.

- Oh, Mr. Riley, I'm sorry
for talking to you like that.

Oh, Madame Rena?

- Never mind that.

I've got information about
your trip to Washington.

- Oh?

What?
- I can't talk on the phone,

but I think you'd better
get your little derriere

down here to my office now.

Friday, I said now!

- Was that Monk begging your forgiveness?

No, it wasn't, it was Madame Rena,

and she wants me to come over.

Can you give me a ride?

- Only if you promise me

there won't be any dead
bodies laying around.

Now, promise.

- All right, I promise.

Madame Rena, it's Friday Foster!

- Why do you have to stir things up?

Watch out!

Colt, don't let him get away!

- You're wrong about Black Widow.

- But Senator Hart said...

- Get a pencil and
write what I say to you,

if you want to know the truth.

- What am I doing here?

Son of a bitch!

Son of a bitch.

Call this number when you can.

- But whose?

- They'll, explain.

You're wrong about,

Black, widow.

- Rena!

Rena!

She's dead, Colt.

- Well, that makes two for today,

because one of those killers

won't be hunting you no more.

Did she say anything?

- Just, um...

Nothing.

Hello?

I'm Friday Foster,

and I'm calling for Madame Rena.

No, she can't come to the phone.

She's dead.

Just now.

No, he's dead, too.

Hey, I haven't the slightest idea.

Hey, she just asked me
to call before she died.

That's all I know.

Come where?

The City Bank Building?

Hello?

Hello?

Hello?

Is anybody up here?

- Miss Foster?

I'm Blake Tarr.

- I don't care who you are!

You have got no right to come up here

and scare me half to death!

- Look, I'm sorry,

but there are certain
precautions I have to take.

- Rooftops and helicopters and henchmen!

- Rena was right.

You've got guts.

What do you know about Rena?

- She worked for me.

It's because of her and Malotte

that I came back to the states.

They told me what was going on.

- And what is going on Mr. Tarr?

- Black widow.

- So Senator Hart was right after all.

You are behind Black Widow.

- What else did the
charming senator tell you?

- That you know who
killed my friend Cloris.

- Mm-hmm, and that I go
around killing my own people,

that I set myself up to be assassinated

at the airport?

Come on, does that make sense to you?

That Hart's a clever son of a...

You know, he's got everybody

believing in that unity scam of his,

when in reality, it's just
a front, a power grab.

I think that Black Widow
is a code name for it.

- David Lee hart, huh?

Rena said you could be trusted.

That's why I'm here.

- This is all a little
confusing, you know.

- Well I've got to know
the when, the what,

the way of Hart's timetable.

All she was able to find out

was that it had something to
do with St. Valentine's Day.

Well that's
the day after tomorrow.

Right, but the
question is, will you help me?

Why would I?

Because I've asked you.

- You're quite sure of
yourself, aren't you?

Are all black millionaires like that?

- Probably.

It goes with the job.

- Some job.

I can't say I dislike it.

Coming from the ghetto

all the way to the top was quite a trip.

But I'm curious about you.

There are things I'd like to know.

- Like what?

Like who is Friday Foster?

Where's she going?

- Who am I?

Well that's a funny question.

Well, first, I'm a woman.

Second, I am a photographer

and a big sister to a little brother,

who's really a 40-year-old man.

And, um, I like cats and
dogs and horses and men,

but not necessarily in that order.

I make my own decisions,

and I'm a Gemini.

- That it?

- Well, that's enough.

Well, as far as where I'm going,

do you mean now or in the future?

- Either way.

Well I see that I'm going to be

getting into something I did not expect.

What did you expect?

You know what I expected?

I expected you to be a rat,

but you're different.

- Baby, you forget I'm
straight off the block.

I know that's
what canceled my theory.

You treat a person like a person

and a woman like a woman.

- I try to treat a lady like a lady.

- Happy Valentine's Day.

You didn't phone.

You didn't write.

You didn't do nothing.

You know, you could have
been dead for all I know?

Well, I wasn't, was I?

- You know, for two days, you're missing,

and the minute you're
back, you drag me here.

Would you mind telling me why we're here?

- We are going to see the senator.

I want to ask him a few questions,

and I want some no-jive answers.

- To what?

- To where are all the black leaders?

I have been calling
them all over the place,

and no one seems to know where they are.

- How would the senator know?

- Now, would a pimp lose
track of his stable?

- I understand you're
asking for Senator Hart.

I'm his executive secretary.

- Would you tell him that Friday
Foster is here to see him?

And I don't intend to be kept waiting.

- Well, you're gonna have
to because he's not in,

and he won't be at all today.

- Could you call him on the phone?

- He didn't leave a number.

Sorry.

- What about Charles Foley?

- With the senator.

- Colt...

Colt, this has got to be
the day for Black Widow.

- Hmm?

- On Valentine's day.

Now, doesn't that mean something to you?

- A massacre.

- Did he say anything about today?

Anything?

- Well, the only thing
he said before he left

was that this was the day that
the walls come tumbling down.

Don't make much sense to me.

- Nothing much would.

- I don't get it.

Does it mean anything to you?

- The walls come tumbling down.

- Joshua fit the battle of Jericho, huh?

♪ Joshua fit the battle of
Jericho, Jericho, Jericho ♪

♪ Joshua fit the battle of Jericho ♪

♪ And the walls come tumblin' down ♪

- That's it!

Jericho!

Don't you know what Jericho is?

- Sweetheart, I'm a Sunday-school dropout.

I don't know what you're-

- That's Reverend Noble Franklin's place.

He invited me there, Dirty old man.

- Yeah, well, so what?

- So the name of the place is Jericho!

That makes sense!

- It does, huh?

- That's where the Black Widow starts.

- What are you talking about?

- Jericho!

Jericho!

What's the matter, huh?

- We've got company, and
not the friendly kind.

- Yeah, I see the ugly and the uglier.

Well let's go out back.

- No, wait a minute, wait a minute.

They don't know me.

I'll go down there and give
them the old fast shuffle.

You go back out and get on
the horn with Blake Tarr.

Can you dig it?

- Yeah, I can dig it.

Are you sure he didn't leave a message?

No, he can't call me back.

I'll try again later, OK?

- Hey, hey, brothers, what's going on?

- Hold it, blood.

Where is Sapphire?

- Say what?

- Colt, come on!

We got to do it alone.

Follow me.

- Let's pull it together, fellas.

- Colt?

Where's Friday?

- Hey man, how you going to ride in here,

screeching and blowing your horn,

Scare the life out of me like that?

I was fixing my car, man,

and you come roaring in here

with your bad boys in the front

and scare the life out of me.

Man, who are you?

- Blake Tarr.

Now, come on, get in the car, quick!

- Where we going?
- To the airport.

Come on!

- Hey, man, if that broad
gets in any kind of trouble,

I'll deal with you myself, hear me?

First Rena got killed and then Malotte,

and then you come up
with this bullshit about

we going to the airport.

Let me tell you one goddamn thing,

- What are you doing here?

- I'm delivering the milk.

- Hold your fire!

All right, let's move it.

- Noble!

Noble!

Noble!

Noble, it's Friday Foster!

Open up!

Quick!

Noble!

Noble!

Noble!

Open up!

Where's Noble Franklin?

I've got to see him.

Noble Franklin!

- What's all the commotion?

- There's an army outside

with enough guns to start World War III!

- What?
- He said the walls of Jericho

were to come tumbling down today,

but I didn't know he
meant to shoot them down!

- Who?

- Our great leader senator David Lee Hart.

He's the one behind Black Widow, and he's-

- Are you out of your mind?

- What are you doing here?

What would I be doing here?

- He's our leader.

The whole unity concept is his.

- But the walls of-

The walls of prejudice, of discrimination,

of misunderstanding and hate.

Every important black
leader in the country

is here today.

We're acting together, as
one for the first time.

- But if you're not behind Black Widow

and Blake Tarr isn't behind Black Widow,

then whose army is that?

- What army?

- Lord, why me?

- Come on.
- Shotguns are for skeet.

At best, they may buy us a little time.

- Time for what?

- David, does this make any sense to you?

- Suppose you wanted
to destroy black power.

What other way than to
get all of our leaders

together in one place and wipe them out?

- But I saw blacks with
the whites, I saw 'em.

- Hell, some niggers will
do anything for a dollar.

- David, look out!

David, are you all right?

Yeah.

I'll get him.

What you need is an education.

Two and two are four.

Four and four are eight.

See spot run.

- Oh, Blake!
- Blake Tarr.

Man, what the hell is going on here?

So it's evident we were
wrong about each other.

I was wrong about you, and you?

- Well, yeah, I was
certainly wrong about you.

I figured that you were behind Black Widow

and that it was just a power grab.

- But then who the hell

is the devil behind all this?

- Friday, I've told you over and over,

I'm not a man of violence.

Right, Mr. Foley?

- Mr. Tarr,

I'm sorry my friends
missed you at the airport,

but they were goddamn bungling fools!

- Oh, Mr. Foley, you're the bumbling fool.

You thought you could sucker David

into getting all these
black leaders up here

to massacre every last one of them.

You couldn't lead anybody anywhere.

- You're such a fool, man.

- Mr. Foley, something you forgot,

that us folks can stick
together when it is necessary.

- Hey, Fancy, what's happening?

- Hey, special delivery man is here!

Where is that fine sister of yours?

I want her to check this out.

Now, I got a dynamite Gucci purse

and some rocks from Tiffany's.

Now, get to that.

- Hey, that's real cool, man.

That's real cool.

I'll take it up to her right now.

- OK, well, you do that, little man,

'cause I'm going to lay right out here.

- Hey, Friday, look what Fancy sent for...

Wow!

- Seems like I have a
few admirers, doesn't it?

- Wow!

Wow!

- The door's open.

What's all this?

- Oh, Colt, look at all this stuff!

Have you ever seen so
many beautiful things?

- My god!

I brought you a little something, but, uh,

it's too little and too late.

- Oh, Colt.

Oh, it's beautiful!

- It's cheap!

- You know, between Senator
Hart and Blake Tarr,

I feel like, uh, a lightweight.

- You should.

- I'm going to kill him.

- Oh, Colt, but when it comes down to it,

you're my main man.

- Shall we go?

- By all means.

- I got the chariot downstairs.

Dinner.

- Dancing,

- Flowers.

Moonlight.

- And, uh...

No kids.