Original subtitles

It was not the proper forum.

Darlin'...

...it's election season.

Every forum's the proper forum.

Act accordingly.

Bo!

C'mere.

Smile.

A little to the left.

This is what you do all day?

Spy on beautiful women in swanky restaurants?

Yeah, if you consider the finer bodegas of Bensonhurst swanky.

We should do this more often. Figured it was time you earned your keep.

Does that mean I get paid this month? Yep. Soon as I see that phone bill.

He's my brother. What do you want?

Send him a phone card.

Yeah, I should, right?

He doin' alright?

Y'know... Sing Sing ain't no place for guys with good hearts.

Why'd the mayor call you, Billy?

Ah, she's grabbing her things.

Shit. What do I do? Calm down. Look at me.

Smile. Thatta girl. Stand up, get your coat.

Just keep smiling and talking, okay? My heart is pounding, Billy.

Purse.

C'mere. Beat her to the door.

Then get across the street so you can cover whichever direction she goes.

Call me when you got her. Okay.

Alright, you're my eyes. What do we have? Uptown on Madison,

towards 45th. She dumped the friend, picked up her bodyguard.

Alright, keep at her pace. No more than two bodies between you, okay?

She's on the phone. She just took a call. Blackberry?

It's a flip phone. Alright, I need you to get in closer, okay?

Get me a name, Katy. A place, a time, something, anything.

Okay. No, no, no, I...

I understand. So, uh, what time, darling?

I'll be there. It's him, Billy. She's arranging a meeting.

Alright, I got her.

Yeah.

I'll be there soon.

Alright, go. Ma'am?

Ma'am! Sorry, it's-i-i-it's yours. I think you dropped this.

Yes, thank you. Ah, you're welcome.

Looks like she's going to the Roosevelt. Should we follow her?

No, she's gonna figure out we were here soon enough.

We need to find out who this number belongs to.

If he drives a Lexus, we got our guy.

Welcome back to the Roosevelt, Mrs. Hostetler.

Thank you, Kenny.

I got him. You got him?

Oh, I got him. And it's good, Billy.

How good? Ugh... wondrous good.

Wondrous? What, they teach you that at DeVry?

I go to Hunter, asshole. Oh!

Pardon me! It's a sophisticated place, alright?

I got sophisticated friends. We read books. We drink wine.

Really? Are you old enough to drink?

Be surprised what I'm old enough to do. Hey, easy, okay?

For example, I'm old enough to vote.

And it might come of some interest, when casting my ballot,

to know that Jack Valliant's campaign manager,

a guy named Paul Andrews, is fucking the mayor's wife.

Bullshit. And he drives a Lexus.

This is good.

It's borderline orgasmic, Billy.

Did you learn that at Hunter, too?

Wouldn't you like to know?

This is not gonna go over good with the mayor.

That is a cold bitch.

Your attention, please.

All luggage and parcels must be attended at all times.

Any items left unattended... Montauk. Round trip. Peak.

...will be removed by and subject

to search by the M.T.A. Police. Thank you.

Thank you for your cooperation.

Whoa!

How you lookin' against the kid? The numbers are holding steady.

Steady? Yeah.

What the fuck does that mean? Steady is a prelude to a shift. Okay?

In what direction?

The incumbent, Sam.

Always to the incumbent.

Really?

Ah!

Ah-hah!

A little slow, Nick. Yeah?

You just watch your ass, I'll take care of mine.

Yeah, I'm beginning to wonder if you can. It's like Griffith and Paret... in '62.

Emile Griffith and Benny Paret, you remember that?

Yeah. So the kid is Paret, I'm Griffith.

You mean you're the fag?

I am Griffith minus the fag angle.

I'm holdin' back. I'm making him think he's got it won.

And then comes the twelfth round, Sam. You remember that?

Yeah.

The kill shot.

Fuck you.

So, Nick...

...I've got a half a million sunk in your campaign...

...and a lot more riding on the result.

So...

why don't you just tell me how you're gonna win this thing.

We have dirt dropping on the news desks of every paper and every network...

across this city tonight.

Will it stick? No, it won't stick, it's all bullshit.

But it will smudge.

And that'll get the undecideds thinking again,

and Sunday night at the debate, I will put him away.

Well, you better, Nick.

You just better.

You know who you're voting for?

Nah, don't think I'll make it to the polls. I usually try to vote for president, but...

President doesn't determine the quality of life in Brooklyn, no?

How'd you know I was from Brooklyn?

You just told me you were from Brooklyn.

I'm in the business of picking up on these things.

What are you, a private eye?

No. Private eye?

Private eyes still exist?

So what do you do, then?

I'm in politics.

So who do you recommend? Oh, I recommend the new guy.

Ah, come on, he's too clean. New York's this big, messy place.

Well, does it have to be? No, I mean, it could be better, of course,

but it's been pretty good the last few years under Hostetler.

So what do you do, then? I work sanitation.

You clean up pretty well for a garbage man.

I'm just doing it to impress a lady.

Ah, it's always a lady.

Local 831?

Yeah, 15 years. Fifteen years.

You own a home?

In New York? Exactly.

So why is it that you, a union man - and I take it a native New Yorker -

why is it that you don't own your own home in the city?

Yet every Bernie and Gordon who get off this fuckin' train with an MBA

and low to no scruples, they own one.

They own one in the city and one on the island.

So where is yours?

I'm just saying.

So you own a house out here? No...

No.

No, don't get me wrong, I like the water and the sand and the grass, but no.

The only thing better than getting outta that damn city is going back to it.

Nah, just about everything and anyone I love is in that city.

The next and final stop will be Montauk.

All passengers must depart the train at Montauk.

Please be sure to gather all... Nice talking to you.

Yeah, you, too.

Oh, shit.

Taggart Agency.

Were you on the other line? No, I'm trying to save your business.

Y'know, I don't get to say this too often, but you were right.

Really?

The mayor's wife is fucking the campaign manager.

Told you. Call the mayor,

tell him I got some pictures. Okay.

And stay off the fuckin' phone. I wasn't a...

Ryan, I wouldn't even be in this movie if it wasn't for you.

So thank you. That was really sweet. Mm.

This guy right here, we got a real civilian here.

C'mon, William, tell us. Wh-what do you do, uh...

I-I don't do anything important. I take pictures. It's... very boring.

Oh, shit. You're not paparazzi, are you?

No.

I actually, uh... mostly stick to real people, so...

Billy is a private investigator. He used to be a cop.

Get outta here. You serious? Is that how you two met?

You promised not to write her a ticket if she goes out with you.

Yeah, something like that.

Well, details, details, tell us everything. Come on, Billy, details.

How'd a guy like you end up with a girl like Natalie?

A guy like me? Ah, I can't imagine

you were too big on the theatre. This is you guys' party.

Let's talk about your movie. I'd rather hear about that.

No. No one leaves this table without singing the blues, Billy.

Natalie, you gotta pick up the slack here. How did you meet this charming guy?

Billy was a friend of the family. Ah, so you guys lived

in the same neighbourhood, or...? He worked by where I lived.

So you fell in love with the neighbourhood policeman?

C'mon.

We were just a bunch of broke Puerto Ricans that nobody gave a damn about.

And Billy was good to us. Barrow?

Is that Puerto Rican?

It's actually Barea.

Nat... Natalie Barea.

Natalia. That actually has nice little ring to it.

Yeah. Okay, you changed it

so you could play more Anglo? No.

I changed it because...

I was tired of going into auditions

and the first question out of the casting director's mouth

was if I was related to Yesenia Barea.

Who's that?

My sister. Is she famous or somethin'?

Yeah. Her face was in all the papers about seven years ago.

Nat. Please, don't... Beautiful 16-year-old girl

found raped and beaten to death in an abandoned apartment in Bolton Village.

Billy was good to us.

It was a really hard time and...

...he made it better.

Well, sure, that's because you like to accuse anyone who doesn't agree

with letting the rich off scot-free of engaging in class warfare

when in reality you know full well what real class warfare is:

Stealing the homes of working people in Bolton Village,

and handing them over at a cut rate to an investment bank.

That, sir, is real class warfare.

Well, maybe where you grew up in Connecticut,

$3 billion is considered cut-rate,

but here in New York City,

$3 billion is considered a lot of money that can solve a lot of problems.

All due respect, you don't solve problems by bending over for billionaires.

Oh, I may bend over for billionaires, but, you know what?

You come from a long line of 'em.

And, by the way, how are the renovations

coming on that $4 million townhouse of yours

over in Brooklyn Heights? You want my house, too? Take it.

I'm upside-down on my mortgage like the rest of this city.

Because the system has been rigged by men like you.

Fuck, that's good. Yeah?

I like that. You make that stick, you pull undecideds off the fence.

Okay.

Alright. We need that moment. Paul.

You know that, uh, "Senator, you are no Jack Kennedy." That moment.

And it's got to be Bolton Village-related.

I'm telling you, it's good. You stick to the issues,

people will see the difference between the two of you.

It's not clean enough, Paul.

It's gotta be clean-cut. He's got this clear line of attack on me.

I'm the rich Connecticut carpetbagger. What the hell is he?

He's out of a job come Tuesday if you stick to the fuckin' issues.

You're missing the point! He's a crook!

I need to be able to hammer that home

when he taunts me and pokes at me about my family money,

Harvard and all the rest of it. I need to be able to lay his fat ass flat!

You, sir, are a crook and a liar! And if he tries

to challenge me to prove it, I pull out that glorious piece of paper

you said you'd provide and I start reading out loud.

Let's take 10. Can I talk to you for a minute?

Alright, so what's your problem, Jack?

The Daily News is my problem, Paul.

The Post, the Times, they're all the same. Pick one.

We got Hostetler backing up a dump-truckload of shit on me

and our campaign's coming up with piss-all by the way of pushback.

I thought that's what Montauk was all about.

What happened to that source of yours?

I'm working on it. So that's why you disappeared

for nine hours yesterday? He kept us waiting.

Kept us on the hook. I told you. You came back stinking of booze.

I had a fucking cocktail, sweetheart. So where is our pushback, then?

Our pushback are truth and facts, Jack. That's how we play.

Where are our headlines? That's all I wanna know.

I'll tell you something. We don't need headlines, Jack.

We don't need headlines, because we're winning.

Even their internal polling has us up by three.

You're winning on your own fucking terms.

But let me tell you something,

you go onto that debate stage and you try to win that debate

by going negative blow to negative blow, he'll fuckin' destroy you.

Understand that.

Glad you got so much faith in me, Paul.

I'm all faith, you smug sonofabitch.

Why don't you try having some? Just do me a favour.

Just do your job.

Just get me that file.

Yes, sir.

Hey, Murdock. Save some for the rest of us, will you?

Mm, Billy, God, holy shit.

What are you doing here? I was in the neighbourhood.

Yeah, me, too.

You club a herd of penguins for that getup? This number? What can I say?

Private sector's been good to me. Oh, you a shamus?

Nah, security.

See that kid over there?

That's T odd Lancaster. That's my charge.

Rich kid. Pop tears down buildings for a living,

wants him to run the business one day.

I'm making sure he stays on the straight and narrow till then.

How you doin', Mr. Mayor? Tony, how are you?

Harris, come and say hello.

This is Harris Sargent, SVP at Solstein Donagan.

Helped me push through the Bolton Village deal.

Four billion dollars we beat out of this poor bastard.

Hi, Mr. Sargent. Good to see you. You remember my son, Todd?

Todd. If you do, you get a prize.

Todd, when are you gonna do the world a favour

and take the business from your old man? When I die and he grows a pair.

Oh, shit.

Some fuckin' party here, huh?

I'd rather be home watching the Knicks. Do what, lose?

This is the best game in town, babe. You got the commissioner over there.

It's the worst-kept secret on earth, him and the mayor can't stand each other.

But the commish don't miss a party. It's like watching Italian opera, them two.

What the hell do you know about opera?

Just 'cause I don't understand the language,

don't mean they ain't out to fuck each other.

Alright? Suite 5101, Mr. Taggart.

I'm told it's urgent.

Excuse me.

In the neighbourhood, my ass.

May I offer you a drink, Mr. Taggart?

I don't drink.

But you used to. I can tell.

How?

By those three seconds you let pass before turning down the drink.

How long has it been?

Seven years. Good for you.

Finally hit rock bottom, huh?

I did it to keep a woman.

Then you do believe in love.

I believe in lovin' the one you're with. Hmm. What are you,

stupid or Catholic?

Both.

To your health, Mr. Taggart.

Well... perhaps you could explain what I'm doin' up here?

Being tailed is exhausting.

If I might pry for a moment, how much are you being paid for your efforts?

Which efforts are those? The work you're doing for the mayor.

I'll give you $50,000

to give it up. Well, that's very generous,

but I got a contract with the mayor. Break it.

You don't break contract with the mayor.

Don't I know it. Why don't you just leave him?

This is not what you think it is, Mr. Taggart.

I take pictures, Mrs. Hostetler. I don't get paid to think.

If the last seven years of your life mean anything,

if that woman you put down the bottle for means anything... walk...

away.

Because if you think you're investigating adultery,

Mr. Taggart, you don't know Nicholas Hostetler very well.

I see you've met Billy.

Yes, we met.

Did he tell you he's doing some work for me?

He mentioned it. Did he mention it was exclusive?

Yes, he did.

You used to know what exclusive meant, dear.

In this case, it means I worked for it...

...keep your grubby little paws off it.

Poor Nicky.

You never did learn how to share, did you?

Well, don't worry... I'll teach you before it's too late.

Careful, dear.

You, too, darling.

Mr. Taggart, please take care.

I need a drink.

What have you got for me?

Actually, Mayor, I think I need a few more days.

I'm pretty sure I got things nailed down,

I just wanna take another 48 hours to confirm.

You have an envelope... of photographs in your pocket.

That I paid for. Right?

Right?

Burning a hole in your bleeding heart?

Good work.

Alright, Billy, we're done.

Hey, Ryan, you excited tonight? Ryan!

Whoa!

Whoo!

You go, Natalie!

Yeah, Natalie! Whoo-hoo!

I love the line between the sky and the water.

You see how it gets darker the farther it is away,

and it's just a line

separating sky from water.

He's religious. I get it, he's gotta have hope.

He's gotta have something to believe in.

Why do you have to bring him up? What does it matter?

Not everything in this life is black and white.

Let's not talk about him anymore.

Let's go.

Ah!

Kiss of Life! Kiss of Life!

Sundance, here we come!

Alright. Pretty trippy. Like it?

It's beautiful. Really?

Excuse me. Yeah?

Can I get a double Jameson, please? Yeah, you got it.

Again.

You want a water back for that? Just pour the fucking drink, please.

Thank you.

Billy, what are you doing?

Hey, Nat, I just...

I just didn't wanna be the only one not celebrating.

Billy, don't do this. It's a party, right?

And what a fucking movie that was, Nat. I mean, my God, I never seen you that good.

I mean, that was incredible. You were so convincing.

Excuse me. Can you take this drink back, please?

Please, okay? I'm fine. Billy, don't!

That's enough. What?

What? You promised me, Billy.

How can you hurt me like this? How can I hurt you?

You haven't once asked me how I'm feeling... This is not your night, Billy.

I've worked so hard for this. It doesn't mean anything to you, does it?

You know, why don't you go do a line, too? Go back to being the old Billy,

'cause everybody knows what a great guy he was.

I'm gonna go hang out with my friends. You mean Ryan?

What, d'you fuck him? Don't do this.

Fine. I'll go ask him myself. Billy.

Just go home. Please?

Tell me the truth or I'll start breakin' shit.

There's nothing left for you to break. Tell me the truth.

You told me it was gonna be artistic, some simple love scene.

I can't do this anymore. You can't do this?

What the fuck does that mean?! We're in pieces.

We've always been in pieces. I'm taking you home. Now!

Are you not listening to me? No, I'm not listening, Nat!

And you're not leaving me, not here, not for this bunch of fuckin' assholes!

I can't. Nat. Please.

Natalie.

I'm sorry.

There's nothing left between us, Billy.

Don't say that. I'm sorry. Nothing.

We've had a dead girl holding us together for seven years.

It's just not enough anymore.

How could you say that?

Natalie, ple... I'm sorry. Nat, you alright?

Yeah. Billy, stop it! No!

Let him go.

Billy, please, please. Fuckin' actor.

Yeah, you fucked him.

Aw, what the...

What the fuck are you doing?

Wait a second. What the fuck?

Y'know what? I've wasted my fuckin' money!

And I waste my fucking time!

Natalie?

Katy, I can't talk right now.

What?

Katy, don't fuck with me. What are you saying?

Shit.

Reports of multiple gunshots in the vicinity of Jane and Washington.

One victim reported. Medical assistance is en route.

Stand back. Right behind the line. Please, everybody, stay back.

Thank you. Hey, Tony!

He's with me. Okay.

Thanks for doing this, Jansen. You got it.

We get the first call just after one. Report of gunshots.

Six more calls inside a minute, all 2-11 s.

First units arrive around three minutes later,

he's already good and dead by then. What's it look like?

Well, so far, so good on robbery. He didn't have a wallet on him,

but his apartment's right here, so maybe he left it inside.

We're working on getting the landlord down here to let us in.

Any cash when you found him? No keys, no cash.

Like I said: So far, so good on robbery.

So when's the last time, uh, you seen one of these?

You're not really thinking robbery?

No, we're spinning robbery.

Media's pushing robbery. It's a counterfactual robbery.

Now it's your turn, Taggart. What the hell's this got to do with you?

That's funny, Billy.

I was just about to ask you that my damn self.

Stay with me, Billy. This is what I got.

I got a former-NYPD-detective- turned-private-eye

at a fundraiser for the mayor.

His mother's life depended on it,

he couldn't find the money to afford a ticket to this thing.

That's Thursday. Then this is the good part -

24 hours later, at the murder scene of the man running the campaign

to unseat the mayor, whoo, imagine,

that very same private eye.

Explain that to me, Billy.

Is this Hostetler?

Is this what you gave him last night? You gave him Andrews?

I gave him pictures. You gave him pictures.

Of who? Who were the pictures of?

His wife. His wife and who?

Oh, I can't tell you that.

You better start telling me something.

Explain to me what you're doing at my crime scene.

I was in the neighbourhood. You were just in the neighbourhood.

Paul Andrews is dead!

What, you think you're gonna piss on him and walk away?

This is an execution. This is a fucking assassination.

Did you finger Andrews? This what you do now, Billy,

you set up executions? Fuck you.

Fuck me? Fuck you.

I took a job, Chief. I didn't ask questions.

I gave him pictures and I walked away.

Oh, you think I gave him up to get murdered?

I think you're too damned smart to think you were setting him up for anything else.

Fuck you! I did my job! No.

You fuckin' knew. I did my job.

Commissioner. Get outta here.

Let me tell you something, Billy.

I'm taking Hostetler down.

He sees election day, it'll be from inside a cage like a monkey.

Now, you either help me,

or you'll be in there with him sucking on bananas, too.

What?

Commissioner, there's an issue.

Something up, Commissioner?

You're on the door, Detective. Nobody gets in here.

All due respect... You're on the fucking door.

Now, Jack...

What happened tonight, Jack?

Don't worry about him, he's with me.

Everyone's with you.

I need you to look at me, Jack.

Talk to me, okay?

Put the whiskey down, Jack. Okay?

Okay, Jack?

Okay.

You need to straighten up, Jack. Lock the door.

It's gonna be okay, Jack.

Just tell me exactly what happened.

Y'know, you're not a real cop.

You're just a whore.

We're gonna go for a walk and get some fresh air.

It'll make you feel better, okay? Don't worry about that guy.

I wanna help you, Jack.

But I have to know what happened; We don't have a lot of time.

I need you to talk to me, you understand?

I'm done talkin' to you. Fuckin' whore. Fuck you!

You're talking, but you're not making a lot of sense.

Clear his mind, Billy.

No!!

Okay.

He went, um...

...downstairs to meet...

Todd Lancaster...

Called earlier and...

...he told Paul he was ready to...

to talk.

He said he was ashamed of himself

for helping us.

But he was, um...

...he was more ashamed of his father and...

he just wanted it to stop.

I think Paul lost track of time...

...'cause he looked at the clock and he, um...

...just ran downstairs.

That was the...

...the last time I saw him.

Did you hear any voices outside?

An altercation, maybe?

No.

Just the shots.

I knew I c-couldn't go out there,

I knew I... couldn't call the police,

couldn't be seen here.

I knew everything I couldn't do.

Jack Valliant, candidate for mayor...

...couldn't do.

You know what this means, Jack?

Yeah, it means I let him lie out there.

It means I let him die alone.

It means you can handle this.

Look at me, Jack.

You are gonna be the next mayor of New York City.

You've gotta handle this.

Now, you go get dressed,

find yourself a hat and a coat with a collar,

and we are gonna get you outta here real quiet.

Yeah.

Right.

You've gotta get him outta here.

I'm on my way.

How involved are you?

It's complicated.

You should give me a day to gather my bearings. We'll talk.

What a fucking mess.

A tragedy, sir.

The press are gonna want heads to roll over this.

I beg your pardon, sir?

You know how it goes, Commissioner.

You either give 'em an arrest, or we give them a resignation.

Then we'll have to give 'em an arrest.

Tragedy in the West Village.

Paul Andrews, campaign manager for mayoral candidate Jack Valliant,

was found shot to death overnight outside his Jane St. apartment.

Police questioned witnesses well into the morning,

but no suspects have been detained.

Police Commissioner Carl Fairbanks, a personal friend of Andrews,

says the investigation will receive the department's highest priority.

We've got a report from the 10th St. Station...

He was a better man than me.

He should've been mayor.

You and Andrews, you were, uh...

together?

There's this quote I remember. I don't know where I heard it.

I just always remember it.

Maybe something I read in undergrad.

"And it's just not popular, or safe...

...to say that I loved him."

Mr. Mayor,

have you spoken to Councilman Valliant? I have.

I reached out to the councilman this morning.