All language subtitles for In.The.Electric.Mist.2009

My name's Dave Robicheaux.

I'm an alcoholic.

Sometimes I'm tempted
to have a drink.

But I never do.

I hope this poor girl was dead

before he started
carving on her like that.

This poor girl didn't have
a whole lot of good luck, Dave.

In the ancient world,

people placed heavy stones
on the graves of their dead

so their souls would not wander
and afflict the living.

I always thought
this was simply the practice

of superstitious
and primitive people.

But I was about to learn
that the dead

can hover on the edge of our vision

with the density
and luminosity of mist.

And their claim on the earth
can be as legitimate

and tenacious as our own.

Could I see your
driver's license, please?

My what?

Driver's license.

Please take it out your billfold,
hand it to me.

Oh, yeah, sure.

Well ...

I was
a little careless back there.

I'm sorry about that.

You're Elrod T. Sykes?

Yes, sir, that's who I am.

Step out the car, Mr. Sykes.

Yes, sir.
Anything you say, sir.

Mr. Sykes,
I think you've been drinking,

and I know you've been smoking
marijuana in your automobile.

I believe your lady friend there
just ate the roach.

Ooh, well, that wouldn't
be good now, would it?

You're under arrest for driving
while intoxicated, Mr. Sykes.

I'll take you just down the
street here to the city jail.

I'll send a car, take Ms.
Drummond wherever she's staying.

But your little red sports car

is going to be towed to the pound.

This is bad news.

This is not on my agenda,

'cause we're just
starting a movie.

I've always enjoyed
all your films.

Ms. Drummond's too.

Take your car keys
out the ignition please.

El, do something.

I feel real bad about this.

Can he make a contribution

to Mothers Against Drunk Driving
or something like that?

As an admirer of your work,
Ms. Drummond,

I recommend you don't make any
more mentions of contributions.

I recommend you stay put.

Deputy will be along here in
a few minutes to take you home.

Get along.

You're not going to get sick
in my truck, are you?

No, I'm just fine.

Mm.

Oh.

Huh.

Oh.

I know where there's a dead body.

What?

Ugh.

Looks like a big pile
of gristle and bone.

Where was this?

Way the hell out
in Atchafalaya swamp.

We had to pick up a scene near
the old Indian reservation.

I went to take a leak.

I saw it sticking out
of a sandbar.

Ugh.

Get back in the truck.

Ugh.

That swamp

full of old Indian bones.

Yeah, but ...

Sorry, I didn't catch your name.

Dave Robicheaux.

Mr. Robicheaux,

now, if that was
an Indian I found,

I was wondering
what he was doing

with a chain wrapped around him.

Say that again.

It's a rusted chain with links

as big as my fist

crisscrossed around his rib cage.

Can you find that sandbar again?

Yes, sir, I believe I could.

I'm going to make
a confession to you,

Mr. Sykes.

DWIs are a pain in the butt.

If I take you home,
can I have your word

you'll be in my office,
9:00 in the morning?

And sober?

9:00, you got it.
Absolutely.

Hey, I really appreciate this.

Elrod Sykes and Kelly Drummond?

I want to go to the set.

Sykes is a drunk.

He's huge!

His head glows in the dark.

Maybe we could get
an autographed movie poster.

No way!

Not for you,
for the hurricane relief fund.

Okay, cool.

Please?

Will you hush?

I'll take her

and look out for her,

if that's all right with you.

Maybe we could get Kelly
Drummond to sign one too,

pay for somebody's roof.

Please?

It's over yonder.

Hold on there, Mr. Sykes.

Best put some of this on.

We used to have
a lot of bats down here,

but the mosquitoes ate 'em all.

That boy's a long way
from his Hollywood poontang,

ain't he?

This jackass is objectifying you,

Mr. Sykes, because
he's had very little exposure

to the outside world.

Don't let it bother you.

Hurricane Betsy blowing through
here in '65 probably buried him

and Katrina unearthed him.

Why '65?

Hurricanes tear up this part
of the country all the time.

See that left shin bone?

Clipped in half.

That's where they shot him
when he tried to run away.

You a psychic

or some bullshit like that?

No, I saw it happen
about a mile from here.

Are you saying

that some white people

lynched somebody around here?

When we get back, you're going
to have to talk to your sheriff,

get the coroner out here now.

I don't know about y'all
over in Iberia Parish,

but around here,
ain't nobody going to be

real interested in nigger trouble that's 40 years old.

What are you looking for,
Mr. Robicheaux?

I don't see any remnants

of a belt on his trousers ...

or any laces in his boots.

That boy probably did his
shopping at the Goodwill.

They never found him,

didn't even look for him.

Back then, with no body,
no missing persons report,

that sheriff didn't have
any reason to believe me,

must less get off his ass
and go to work.

You're not
17 years old anymore.

The trouble I have with you
is getting you away from work.

You've done everything
that you can.

You have no good reason
to beat yourself up.

Now drink your milk
and come to bed.

I'm horny.

Bootsie was right.

What was the point of reaching
into the distant past?

Just yesterday, a young girl
had been eviscerated.

We had her name now,
Cherry LeBlanc.

Mr. Trajan around?

He's over there, chere.

We've been over this already
three times now.

Cherry's been working here off
and on for the past few weeks.

She's going to show up anyway
to listen to Hogman Pitan.

The girl had a real thing
for Hogman.

Some time around 1:00,
she put her purse behind the bar

and says she's going to go
outside for a walk.

You know she'd been
arrested for prostitution?

I didn't know that.

All right.

Okay.

You hired her 'cause you thought

she was an honor student at LSU.

I can't say I care for the way
you're talking to me, Detective.

If I found out you've been
holding back information on me,

Mr. Trajan, I'ma come back here
with a warrant, Mr. Trajan,

for your arrest.

Did you know Cherry LeBlanc,

little white girl,
about 19 years old?

She work here, ain't she?

Do you know if she had
a boyfriend, tante?

If that's what
you want to call it.

She in the business.

Was Mr. Trajan involved?

Ask him.

I don't think he was.

Otherwise you wouldn't be
telling me all these things.

She a sad girl.

I told her,
"A pretty white girl like you

could have anything you want."

When that girl dress up,
she look just like a movie star.

Who was her pimp?

I don't know nothing else, me.

She wasn't about to give the name

of some rich white man
to an old black woman.

What rich white man?

Some rich white man maybe ...

get her out of the business
of selling jelly roll.

She say that just before
somebody done them

awful things to that young girl.

The sheriff over in St. Clair Parish

said, "Thanks a lot,"
for that pile of bones you found

out in the Atchafalaya yesterday.

They really appreciate
the extra work.

He need to find
a new line of work,

he don't like them bones.

Now, he said you're welcome
to come over on your days off

and run an investigation.

Their coroner's got them bones
now waiting on you.

Autopsy report came in
on that LeBlanc girl.

Looks like we're talking
about a psychopath,

somebody wired to the eyes
on crack or meth.

Maybe.

I think she knew him.

So you don't think
it was a john?

No, she left her purse
behind the bar

with all her condoms in it.

Cherry LeBlanc was
a working girl with ambition.

Maybe she misjudged
a business opportunity here.

Who's a girl like that
going to be in business with?

Um ... Baby Feet?

Maybe Baby Feet.

What's happening, Cholo?

I thought you was in the pen.

No, man.

Katrina, she rinsed my hands clean.

The whole damn crime lab

washed off down the river.

Ain't got nothing on me
in New Orleans.

Doing fine, bro.

Besides that, they ain't
even got enough money

to lobotomize
guys like me no more.

What's going on, Dave?

I'm investigating a murder,
Julie.

No kidding.

Y'all worried about me, Dave?

Hell yes.

How many guys
would burn down their own

father's nightclub with their
own father still in it?

You got to forgive me
if I get a little upset

by these kinds of attitudes, Dave.

I come home to this shithole.

I'm a prominent man
in the entertainment business.

I talk on the phone every day
to people in California

you read about
in Entertainment Weekly.

They ought to have
"Welcome Back Balboni Day."

Instead,

I get treated
like sewer gas by you.

You understand
what I'm saying, Dave.

It hurts me.

Sit down while I take a whiz.

Cholo, where's your hospitality?

Get the man a soft drink.

Here, Lieutenant.

Julie was telling me
about that time

that nigger
almost popped you with a .38

in the French Quarter.

Said he saved your life.

Weren't you and Julie baseball
buddies in high school?

Take the hint, Cholo.

This guy's
not a conversationalist.

You working on that
Cherry LeBlanc deal?

What you know about that?

All over today's paper, man.

Julie and me
were just talking about it.

Sounds like you got
one sick fuck on the loose.

My meter's running, Julie.

I want to talk about

that murdered girl
we found south of town.

Which girl is that?

Cherry LeBlanc.

I guess I ain't heard about it.

You don't read the newspaper?

I've been busy.

Mm-hmm, I can see that.

We used to be friends,
Dave.

I even maybe did you a favor once.

So I'm going to line it out
for you and any locals

that want to get
the wax out their ears.

Louisiana's flat-ass broke.

New Orleans is a mortuary.

And the bottom
of a toilet's got more appeal

than this shithole in the bayou.

So they better wake up to the fact

that we are dropping
close to $40 million

in Iberia Parish.

They don't like the name

Balboni around here?

We'll move the whole
fucking movie

over to Mississippi.

See how that floats
with those coon-ass jack-offs

on the Chamber of Commerce.

You're in
the movie business now?

Yeah, I'm producing White Doves
with Michael Goldman.

What you think about that?

I'm sure everybody
wishes you success, Julie.

I'ma do a baseball movie next.

You want a part in it?

You can go on in.

You remember me, Dave?

It's Doucet, isn't it?

Yes, sir,
Murphy Doucet.

You got a good memory.

I was with the Jefferson Parish
Sheriff's Department

when you were with NOPD.

I guess you're
in the movie business now,

along with everybody else.

Yeah, I own half
of a security service now,

and I'm still with the Teamsters
out of Lafayette.

So I'm kind of doing
double duty here.

Is there some kind of trouble?

Where can I find Mr. Goldman?

Right on the other side
of them trees.

I'll let him know you're coming.

It's all right. I'll find him.

We had two divisions of soldiers
march through that?

Looks like we're shooting
a bread commercial.

Where'd we get this cannon,
Toys "R" Us?

All right, I'm going to need
floaters in there,

one face down,
two belly-up.

Use some of the fat extras.

They'll look bloated.

My dead horse?

No.

Not on the call sheet?
Terrific.

We need some blood,
blood-soaked ground,

if that's what it says
in the script.

This is not the nightly news.

They never show the blood.

This is an allegory.

We're not shooting
the fall of Vicksburg.

This is Baghdad 2007.

Copy that.

If people don't
connect the dots, fuck 'em.

There's a Detective Robicheaux
here to see you, sir.

So you're
investigating a crime.

Seen any crime around here?

Only crime I'm aware of

is the air conditioning
in my trailer.

You could fry an egg
on the toilet seat in there.

Then I've got a lead actor
digging up skeletons

in sandbars, exactly what
I need to be thinking about

while I'm shooting a picture.

Mr. Goldman, is Mr. Julius
Balboni producing this film?

Producing?

I must've really fucked up
in my previous incarnation.

Maybe I sunk the Titanic

or assassinated
Archduke Ferdinand.

I am the only producer.

So Mr. Balboni's lying.

Mr. Balboni is investing
some of his money

in a motion picture.

Is that illegal?

Congratulations.

You in business with the man
that hung Fulvio Raneri's cousin

up by his colon on a meat hook.

Do you recognize this girl,

Cherry LeBlanc?

How you are, Hogman?

Come on up on the porch.

Grab a chair.

You knew that LeBlanc girl,
didn't you?

I don't like to have nothing to do

with white folks' business,

but it bothers me
what somebody do to that girl.

I spoke to her about two hours
before she left the juke.

She said, "Hogman,

in the next life, me and you
going to get married."

That's what she said.

I said, "Darling, don't let the
men misuse you for no chicken."

She said, "I'm going
to have myself a town house

on Lake Pontchartrain."

Was she mixed up with somebody
from New Orleans?

Probably some white-trash pimp
told her she special,

she pretty.

Instead, she got herself killed.

You're mixed up with
that skeleton they found

in the Atchafalaya, ain't you?

How do you know about that?

When somebody find
a dead black man,

black people knows about it.

I'm listening.

A blue jay don't sit

on a mockingbird's nest.

The mockingbird will whoop
the blue jay's ass every time.

What are we talking about here,
Sam?

I'm talking about a black man.

And he was carrying on
with a white woman

who husband he worked for.

I think them was his bones
you dug in that sandbar.

What was his name?

Who care what's his name?

I think he got
what he asked for.

I say, "Past is past,

and don't be messing with it."

You warning me?

What was that white woman's name?

I got to go start my beans now.

Alafair,

you got to keep this raccoon
out of my fried pie.

Next time he come in here,
I'ma swat him with my broom.

Tripod's just an animal.

Why don't you try kicking the
smell of cigars out of the yard?

Alafair, you shouldn't
talk to Batist like that.

But he threatened Tripod
with menacing violence.

Tripod's a raccoon, baby.

Apologize to Batist.

Sorry for what I said.

And I'm saying it
'cause Dave made me.

That's a beautiful child,
Dave.

By the time she's 18 years old,

your hair's going to be solid white,

if there's any of it left.

Oh, wow.

Uh.

This is great!

I love it.

You run a bait shop too.

How you doing, Mr. Robicheaux?

We want to have dinner
with y'all tonight.

Oh, thanks, but my wife's
already cooking supper.

I was just on my way
over there to take a shower.

Well, hurry up.

We got reservations
at Clementine's, everybody.

The family has plans
for this evening, Mr. Sykes.

This is embarrassing, El.

I have a reservation.

Hey, I don't want
to cause any problems.

We'll just pick up
our liquids at your store here

and hit the road, okay?

Mr. Sykes ...

you've been driving drunk,

and you come to a cop's house
to buy more booze.

Why don't you hand
those keys to Ms. Drummond

before you hit the road?

Where's that beer at?

Hey.

You're a good man.

Y'all need to be real careful.

Elrod's a shitbird, but I love him.

It's all right.

Bad timing. Put it there.

Cool. Next time.

Hey.

All right.

Um, shit. We'll settle up.

We'll settle up later, yeah?

All right.

Other side.

Ah.

Come here.

Come on.
Come here.

Elrod.

What? Check this out.

Will you stop?

El!

Check me out.

S'more?
Made 'em myself.

Oh, thank you.

Elrod Sykes
is wearing Dave's jersey.

Can you believe it?

Mm-hmm.

Now go do your homework.

Something to drink?

How about a beer?

I think we're out.

I'm sure there's
one in there somewhere.

I'm going to go feed
Alafair's rabbits.

You care to join me?

Yeah, yeah, sure.

Get back there, Leroy.

Go on.

You ever seen lights
in the cypress trees at night?

That's swamp gas.

It'll ignite and roll out across
the waters like ball lightning.

No, sir, that's not what it is.

See these guys out yonder
by the lake.

They have lanterns hanging
from some of their ambulances.

A lot of those soldiers
had maggots in their wounds.

That's the only reason
they lived.

It's 'cause the maggots
ate out the infection.

You've been drunk
a long time, Elrod.

Pretty soon, all the trees
and alligators

will be talking to you.

A wild orchid
sang a song to me one time.

She had the prettiest voice.

Yeah, I wasn't drunk.

Mm-hmm.

This guy, a general,

he's standing on a crutch
right by the water.

And he said to me,

"You and your friend
the law man must repel them."

I think you're delusional.

You might want to think about
going to an AA meeting

with me one time.

Maybe I was a little drunk.

What happened
to this dude's nose?

Coon bit him.

Aw.

Lou Girard

always called at night.

I had picked him out of gutters

from New Orleans to Lake Charles,

held him when he had the shakes,

driven him to AA meetings more
times than I could remember.

And he had done the same for me.

Thanks for the call, Lou.

Yeah, when I saw
that electrical tape

around her hands and her feet,
or what's left of them,

I thought about you and that
LeBlanc case you got going.

Where she at now?

She's right there,
still in that barrel.

She got about
15 big blue crabs on her.

Coroner says, we move her,
she's coming out in pieces.

We're going to have a rough time
getting an ID, maybe.

Maybe by her teeth.

That's the poor bastard
who found her.

When did you
first notice that barrel?

About four or three weeks back.

See anyone else out there

on that levee?

Yeah, about a month ago
in the evening,

I seen a dark-colored car.

I remember thinking,
it was brand-new, you know?

Why would anybody
want to bring their new car

down on that dirt road
full of holes?

You remember
what kind of car it was?

No, sir. I'm sorry.

I just wish I hadn't been

the one to find that poor woman.

And, hey, I'm never
going to look inside

another barrel again.

Not me, no.

That'll do. Thank you.

Officer Guidry
going to take you home.

Thank you.

I need a tow truck

to haul off a limousine.

Where about?

Can't miss it.

Right in front of Chez Narcisse.

- When?
- Right now.

- Copy that.
- Thank you, chere.

You could get

the Roman Army down here.

One division of these guys

could've knocked off
these squirrel hunters,

had the Civil War over
in one year.

You know what?

Maybe we'll do a Bible movie next.

Yeah, but how do you fight
a war with sandals?

That's ... stupid.

How did they win wars
with sandals, hm?

What's going on, Dave?

Had a long night last night.

Found a girl in a barrel down
in south St. Martin Parish.

She covered up in blue crabs.

You ought to run her again.

We'll have gumbo.

You here for breakfast?

Sit down.

You're pissed off
about some little thing,

so you have my car towed.

You need to quit parking
in front of fireplugs.

Fireplugs; I'm getting this kind
of shit because of fireplugs?

No, Julie.

I want to know what you have
to do with a teenage hooker

named Cherry LeBlanc.

Who the fuck is Cherry LeBlanc?

You know who she is.

You and Cholo
were talking about her

before I got to the Holiday Inn,
and you lied to me about it.

Calling me a liar?

You're a motherfucking lying
piece of dog shit.

I think this sweet little town's

starting to rub off
on you, David.

Gentlemen, could you please ...

I mean,
just not use that language --

Get the fuck
away from my table!

It's all right, Mr. Meaux.

I'll be gone in a second.

Oh, sad to hear that.

I don't know none of these girls.

I don't have nothing to do
with your business.

You said some
ugly things about me, Dave,

and I'm going to let it slide.

I'll call a couple of cabs,

I'll pay the fine on my car,

I'll buy some new tires,

and I'll forget everything
you've been saying to me,

because I got a business to run.

Everybody's been pretty polite here.

Keep it simple, stupid.

It's time for you to let
people alone, Mr. Robicheaux.

Uh!

Ease off, Lieutenant.

This ain't good for nobody.

Uh!

Come on. Come on.

You're losing it, Dave.

You need to get yourself
some better tranqs.

No, sir, I wouldn't exactly

call it a dead end.

You have a seat,
I'll be right with you.

Thank you.

It's $100-million contract.

He must've pocketed
$60 million, $70 million.

False load slips, bogus waybills.

Balboni Trucking hauled
just about enough debris

to fill a Dixie cup.

Yes, sir, we are trying.

Thank you.

Can I help you with something?

I hope so.

This is my office.

Oh, my God, I'm s --

I'm sorry. I was --

a call came in for me
on your extension,

and I just --

anyway,
I'm Special Agent Rosa Gomez.

Everyone calls me Rosie,
so call me Rosie.

It's nice to meet you,
Special Agent Rosie.

"Your detective's
investigative missteps

are going to hurt you
in November."

That's courtesy of that prick

Bubba Broussard
over at the city council.

So you called the FBI?

The FBI's been trying
to nail Balboni

for over a year now
on a FEMA scam.

And they still have
precisely nothing on him.

That's why I think
they're hoping there's more

to that Cherry LeBlanc case.

Now, Balboni
is throwing a birthday bash

for Mr. Michael Goldman
this evening.

I think you, too, should attend.

There are 17 unsolved
homicides in Louisiana

that share some
similarities with this case.

And ten of them share
multiple common denominators.

All show marks from being bound,

all young, all working class.

One was a high school girl.

Two were waitresses.
Three had been runaways.

And four were prostitutes.

The FBI has
an informational advantage

over Iberia Parish.

How do you like
that catfish court bouillon?

Uh, it's interesting.

If you found the remains
of a black man

and he had no belt,
no laces in his boot,

what speculation
would you make about him?

Obviously he'd been in jail,
a parish, or city holding tank,

some place where they were
afraid he'd do harm to himself.

That's what I think.

Mud bugs, as advertised.

This one has your name on it.

Get out of here.

Hey, Dave, you ought
to get yourself some food.

It's free.

Thanks. I've already eaten.

See that man
bird-dogging the blonde?

Twinky Hebert LeMoyne.

That's the other half
of my security service business.

What's he doing here?

He's an investor in the movie

and trying to get laid.

That's funny.

You like doing business
with Twinky LeMoyne?

It's good for me.

For him,
it's no big deal, really.

I mean, if there's a business
around here making money,

you can be sure
he's got a piece of it.

♪ Well, I sit in my dark room ♪

♪ with tears rolling down my eyes ♪

Take a picture?

What? Picture?

Yeah.

♪ Come on, help me now ♪

I'm General John Bell Hood,
commander of the Texas brigade,

commander of the
4th Texas Cavalry,

the 5th Texas Cavalry,

and the 17th Texas Infantry.

Do you object
to shaking hands?

Am I dead?

You don't look like it to me.

You were at Gettysburg.
The war's over.

It's never over.

I would think you'd know that.

You were a lieutenant in the
United States Army, weren't you?

My head hurts. My head ...

sure does hurt.

Venal and evil people
are destroying the world

you were born in.

It's us against them,
my good friend.

Don't compromise your principles
or abandon your cause.

Do you know what's waiting
for me on down the road?

For one reason or another,

I find I have more insight
into the past than the future.

Try to keep this in mind:

It's just like when
they load their cannon

with horseshoes and log chain.

You'd think the barrage
would last forever.

Then all of a sudden,
there's a silence

louder than the cannon fire.

Please don't be alarmed

by the severity of my comparison.

Have a good night, Lieutenant.

Paramedics who brought you in

said you were talking
about Confederate soldiers

out in the swamp.

It was an usual night.

What's the possibility

that one of those
Hollywood characters

laced your Dr. Pepper?

Do what?

The tox screen came back
positive for LSD.

I - I need to talk
to the sheriff.

The sherifff was here this morning.

You talked to him for half an hour.

What'd I say?

Nothing that made
any sense to me.

When you reel him in

through the water,

his little legs and tail
wiggle like he was swimming.

Makes the black bass hungry.

How would you define
the idea of understanding?

Well, it's knowing something
and knowing what it means.

I think there's two ways

of looking at the idea
of understanding.

One is, if you don't look,
you never will see.

And the other is,
if you look a little less,

you might see
a hell of a lot more.

You might not be over those drugs

they put in your drink.

I know General John Bell Hood
of the Texas Calvary

just like he was
my own grandfather.

Are you accusing me
of working with the mafia?

When you do business with a man
like Julie Balboni,

you create a certain amount
of curiosity about yourself.

I don't do business with him.

I don't do anything with him.

I'm a member
of a group of investors

that have put money
into a movie production

in New Iberia.

Investing in the local economy,
that's all.

Are your employees
union people?

No, they certainly are not.

You own half of a security
service with Murphy Doucet,

don't you?

That's right, I certainly do.

And your partner
in your security service

is a Teamster steward
over in Lafayette.

I think you're involved in
some strange contradictions,

Mr. LeMoyne.

You'll have to excuse me,
Detective.

I've got to lock up now.

I have a lot of people
I take care of, you know?

Would you like
to have Julie Balboni

for a next door neighbor?

Would you like to have
your granddaughter

working for him?

Mr. Robicheaux,

I can't express to you
how offensive you are.

Did you get
that blond-haired girl

to lick your leg the other night?

There's my business card.

Thank you for your time.

Here you go, Dave.

Still 1965,
July, September, November.

Thank you, chere.

You're welcome.

How's Alafair?

Bien bonne.

Great.

A nigger, you say?

DeWitt Prejean.

Black man name of DeWitt Prejean.

Yeah, I remember
that son of a bitch.

What about him?

Were you on duty the night
somebody broke him out of jail?

I - I was the jailer.

Jailers don't work nights.

They hire a man for that.

Do you remember what
Mr. Prejean was charged with?

He wasn't charged with nothing.

Never got to that.

They busted him out of the tank.

Not according to the newspaper.

Lot of people wipe
their asses with newspaper.

Newspaper said he broke
into a white woman's house

with a butcher knife.

Was DeWitt Prejean a rapist?

He couldn't keep
his prick in his pants,

if that's what you mean.

Is it all right if I sit down
here, Mr. Hebert?

Sure.

You think her husband
broke him out of jail?

He might have if he could've.

He was a crippled man.

Got shot up in a war.

Where's he at now?

He's in the cemetery
out by the tracks,

east of town.

What about the woman?

She moved away, up north somewhere.

What's your interest in this
40-year-old nigger trouble?

I think I saw him killed.

Where's the man who was on duty
the night of the jailbreak?

He got drunk and got his self
run over by a train.

Wait a minute.

What'd you say?

You saw what?

What you think I saw,
Mr. Hebert?

Hello?

You're a hard man to catch.

Who's this?

Sugar, it's Amber.

Don't you remember me?

Don't hurt my feelings.

No, I'm sorry.
I don't remember who you are.

What can I do for you?

It's me that's going to do you
a big favor, darIing.

I'm going to give you
the guy you want.

What guy we talking about?

The nasty old pimp that's been
leaving dead girls around.

Meet me at Club Leon
in an hour.

Thanks for coming out, Lou.

Yeah, who you supposed
to be meeting up with here?

Said her name was Amber.

There's a hooker,
calls herself Amber.

What are we doing tonight?

I'm going to drive around front
and have a look inside.

I'd like you to be out here
to cover my back.

I don't want to walk
into no setup.

What are you having?

Has Amber been in?

Amber Martinez?

Short, skinny,
little Puerto Rican girl,

maybe weigh 100 pounds
sopping wet?

- Yeah.
- No, she ain't been in.

What you drinking?

- Dr. Pepper.
- Dr. Pepper, yes, sir.

I could call somebody,
might know where she's at.

Why don't you do that?

Yes, sir.
Right away.

Hey, Mama 'Ti, Amber there?

No word from Amber?

No, man, not a word.

♪ I'm a hog for you, babe ♪

♪ And I'm running round
your door ♪

♪ I'm a hog for you, woman ♪

Get back in there!

Dave, what the fuck's going on?

Shooter fired at me twice.

I put eight rounds in that Buick.

I think he's still in there.

Looks like she took one

right in the face.

What you mean, "she"?

You just popped

Amber Martinez.

There's no fucking gun.

There's no gun, man.

I got this throw-down.

Tell me to do it.

I opened up
on that Buick too soon.

You thought your life

was at risk, Lieutenant.

I hope you don't mind
my being here.

No.

You shouldn't have remorse.

A desire to live doesn't mean
you lack humanity.

Somebody's trying
to drive me crazy.

Can't believe what I see
or hear anymore.

They say I killed
an unarmed woman.

I think that would
probably bother me too.

I keep seeing that woman,
the back of her head,

her hair glued down
to the carpet

with her own blood.

Think about what you just said.

You're an intelligent man.

What does your eye tell you?

I need help.

The wind's out of the south.

There'll be thunder
by afternoon.

It'll sound
like Yankee cannon fire,

but it'll only be thunder.

General ...

What time is it?

Why would Amber Martinez
be sitting in the passenger seat

of her own car?

What did
the homicide investigator

have to say last night?

He told me I'm a hell of a shot.

Everybody thinks
I killed an unarmed woman.

There's not
any bullet holes anywhere.

There's no casings.

And there's no gun.

It was a setup, Dave.

What y'all doing out here?

Can't be messing around
a crime scene.

I'm really just
an observer here, Doobie.

Who's she?

Special Agent Gomez.

This is part
of an FBI investigation.

Do you have
a problem with that?

Why piss people off,
Robicheaux?

St. Martin Parish ain't going
to indict you over this,

but if I were you,
I wouldn't hang around here.

You might piss me off.

Well, from the size of the wound

and the impact of the round,

I'd say a .45 killed her.

Look at her head.

I only use hollow-point
ammunition, Sollie.

It ain't no hollow point

passed through this girl's head.

Her hair was stuck
to the carpet,

the blood already dry.

Did she die in that car,
you want to ask me?

Her blood lividity tells me

that she was dead before
she ever got into that car.

If I can vacuum the Buick,
what are we looking for?

I saw muzzle flashes
coming out that Buick.

I didn't see no bullet holes
in that beer joint wall.

See what you can find out.

What we waiting on here,
me to smoke this?

I don't know.

Thank you, Henry.

Anybody else
got something to share?

My name's Dave.

I'm an alcoholic.

♪ I'm coming home ♪

♪ 'Cause I feel ♪

♪ You know, I feel so all alone ♪

How about some cappuccino mix?

You cops like coffee, right,
or a stereo?

You know anybody been recruiting
girls out the parishes?

Try the bus depot,
for starters.

But who's going to recruit?

Ever since Katrina,

there's cash on the hoof
all over this town.

Maybe this guy does more
than just pimp.

Maybe he likes
to hurt these girls.

Been two of them killed already,

maybe more.

Talking about somebody
that operates way down

at the bottom
of the food chain, Dave.

You think Baby Feets Balboni
might have something to do

with something like this?

You're using the names
of local personalities now.

It stays with me, Jimmie.

You looking for a guy
who likes to kill hookers?

Mm-hmm.

Don't sound like Baby Feet.

His outfit's running girls,
all right, but ...

they're not worth nothing to him
if they're dead.

Try the bus station.

Try Adonis Brown.

You, uh, ladies seem lost.

You're not from around here,
are you?

You'll be able
to find some peace,

I promise you.

Don't sweat it.

I want you to make a public
service announcement for me,

chere.

I know what it's like
to run away.

Praise Jesus.

There's a call

for Mr. Adonis Brown at
the public restroom pay phone.

There's a call
for Mr. Adonis Brown

at the
public restroom pay phone.

This is Adonis.
What's up?

Hello?

Uh!

What you want?

Ah!

Don't do that, man.

I ain't no threat to you.

Look, I ain't got a gun.

I ain't no trouble.
Uh!

I want to know

the name of the guy

you've been delivering
all these girls to.

This one's occupied,
by the way.

Nobody. I ain't
bringing nobody to nobody.

Uh!

You know the guy I'm talking about.

Don't do this to me, man.

Uh!

Tell me his name.

This guy likes to hurt people.

You tell me his name,
this'll all be over with.

There's a ...

bald-headed,
squirrel-faced white guy.

He carries a gun too.

Nobody fucks with him.

Is that the guy
you're talking about?

Uh!

You tell me.

He's got juice.
That's all I know.

I don't know
his fucking name, man.

He connected?

With the cops or the mob.

He's got to be
to stay in business.

That's all I know.

Why you doing this to me, man?

God.

I shit my pants.

I can't go back out there.

That's right, Adonis.

You ain't ever
gonna go back out there.

You're going
to treat that bus station

like it's downtown Baghdad.

Not a good place for you to be.

Who the fuck are you, man?

You don't want to know
who I am.

What you want to do
is start acting right

and quit doing wrong.

I'll kill you, Adonis.

I'll blow
your Goddamn head off

if you don't find
an honest line of work.

You stay gone most of the night.

You don't call.

I'm sorry.

I don't deserve to be afraid
you've been hurt.

No.

You don't.

But I'm not going to nag you.

I really need your help, Dave.

I really need help.

Go ahead.

You go ahead
and drown yourself, man.

I don't care.

Dave, I planned this all week.

The guy already charged me
for the boat, man

Elrod ...

It's going to rain like hell.

Now, why don't you wait until
after it quits raining,

and you can go fishing
for black bass and perch

and bream right out here
in the bayou.

When was the last time you
caught freshwater fish

after it rained?

Oh, hell, suit yourself.

You want to leave
that beer cooler here with me?

It came with the boat, dude.

Sure you don't want to come?

Miss Drummond,

you need to get yourself
off of that boat right now.

Please, it's Kelly.

Watch the bend in the channel.

It's about three miles south.

The water's been low

and gill nets are on the left

floating on Clorox bottles.

I got it.

Hello?

How far down the bayou?

Well, that's that bend
Batist warned you about.

Oh.

What you asking me, Elrod?

Can you come give us a hand?

Yeah, I'll come help you out.

But I am also going
to bill you for my time.

I got it.

How'd you hit the gill net?

Didn't you see the bottles?

Oh, man ...

I'm an idiot, right?

You want me

to get down in the water?

Yeah.

Get down by the bow
and be ready to push

when I put the motors in reverse.

Hey, are there
any alligators around here?

Oh, hell yeah.

They're not hungry, though.

All right.

Put on a life jacket, El.

Okay, honey.

I swam the Trinity River once.

Watch out for water moccasins.

What?

Don't worry about him.

That water's not very deep.

I've got to give him
a life jacket.

He'd drown in a bathroom sink.

Here you go.

It's nothing personal,
Miss Kelly.

But I think you're a very fine,
beautiful young woman.

I'm already soaked.

I was burdened greatly

by the deaths of those
around me, Lieutenant.

But incorporating
their suffering

into our own lives does not
change the way of the world.

An act of kindness,

one as simple
as giving a girl my raincoat,

had resulted in her death.

The shooter
had left nothing behind,

no ejected brass,

no recoverable prints.

We had no suspects.

But one heart-sinking

and unalterable
conclusion remained.

Kelly Drummond was dead.

And she was dead because
she had been mistaken for me.

The tragic death

of Kelly Drummond,

the long-time companion
of Elrod Sykes

and star of the popular
television series

River Valley,
now appears certain

to have been a case
of mistaken identity.

Sources within
the sheriff's department

confirmed that
they now believe the fatal shot

may have been intended
for someone else.

I'm going to miss her, Dave.

Ah.

You want him to stay here?

Guy's in bad shape.

This is our home.

Mr. Sykes just did
the rainbow yawn again.

Go to bed.

The guy needs an AA friend,
or he's not going to make it.

So what? I don't care.

Tell you what,
I'm going to make you a deal.

First time he takes a drink,

he gets 86ed right straight back

to his movie star trailer house.

He pays for his share
of the food.

He does not tie up the bathroom.

He does not come in late.

Okay, but only for a few days.

Do you like being a movie star?

It's just a job, honey.

Really?
Yeah.

It's like Dave.

You think he enjoys
enforcing the law,

catching the bad guys,

making the good people
feel better?

Yeah.

Yeah, well ...

I like my job.

I'm sorry about Kelly.

Me too, honey.

Um ...

I've got 50 movie posters here
from Tears and Diamonds.

I hate that picture.

Well, 50 movie posters
signed by Elrod Sykes

will fetch $25,000.

That's four roofs,

eight with volunteer labor.

Here's your felt-tip pen.

The worst thing

a cop can do to himself
is eat his own gun.

Lou Girard
always called at night.

Tonight someone else
had to make the call for him.

There's a half-empty bottle

of Bourbon here on the dresser,

spilled bottle of Diazepam
here on the coffee table.

Y'all writing that off
as a suicide?

Well, that's the way
it looks to me.

He was in bad shape.

Mattress is covered
in piss stains.

The sink is full
of raw garbage.

Where's the gun at?

By the bedside.

If Lou Girard wanted
to kill his self,

how come he didn't use
that .357?

'Cause he was drunk
on his ass.

Not an unusual condition
for him.

He was helping me
on a case, Doobie.

And?

Maybe he found out something

somebody did not
want him to know.

He was trembling,
eating pills every morning,

in front of everybody.

There's no big mystery
to what happened here tonight.

He was a good cop.

He was a sorry-ass drunk.

Now, if you want to look
at anything else, hurry up.

I'm going
to seal the place.

I appreciate you waiting outside
just for a moment.

Matter of fact, I appreciate you
staying as far away from me

as you can possibly get.

What had Lou found out

that had cost him his life?

Hogman Patin knew a lot
and seldom said anything.

Now I got word
he wanted to talk to me.

I started to think about
when I was in the pen.

And your daddy,
he brought my mother food

and paid for her medicine
up at the store

when she was sick.

You got something
to say to me, Sam?

What was the name of that nigger
you dug up out the sandbar?

DeWitt Prejean.

He was fucking a white man's wife.

Start asking what
he's doing for a living,

and you'll find the people been
causing you all this grief.

Who's the man I'm looking for?

I said all I can say.

This still
the state of Louisiana.

Why you keep bothering me?

I need to know what kind of work
DeWitt Prejean did.

Done nigger work.

You know, he cut lawns,
cleaned out grease traps,

got the dead rats out
from under people's houses.

What the fuck you think he did?

Don't sound right to me.

I think he did
some other kind of work too.

You leave me alone.

You're a pretty good
judge of character, Mr. Hebert.

Do I look like somebody
that's going to go away?

Hm?

It was better back then.

You know it was.

What kind of work he do, Ben?

Drove a truck.

Who for?

It was over in Jeanerette.

I brung her out here
'cause she works for me,

'cause I can't get in and out
of the car good by myself.

He worked seasonal
for a white man,

owned some big sugar mill.

I don't know nothing about him

except he was a brother
of that crippled fellow.

That's all I know and nothing more.

You saying I do,
then you're a Goddamn liar.

Something else you want to say?

You got a fish on your line.

Batist.

Yo.

How many sugar mills they got
over there in Jeanerette?

Just one.

Mm-hmm.

Hey.

Come on in.

Stopped by to say good-bye,

give you a going-away present.

Where you headed, Cholo?

Thought I might go to Florida,

maybe open a business
like you got here.

What you doing with
all that lawn furniture

in the back end of your pickup?

Oh, um,

guy at the Holiday Inn wanted me
to take it when I checked out.

Said I'd kind of be doing
him a favor, you know?

Giving him a write-off.

Uh-huh.

You had some trouble
with Baby Feet.

Yeah.

I told him he was a douche bag

and I wouldn't work for him again

even if he begged me.

That Cherry LeBlanc girl
was right

when she called him
a needle-dick.

That's when the son of a bitch
comes across my mouth

with this big --

Now, wait, wait, wait.

What's this
about Cherry LeBlanc?

If he tells you
he never knew her,

ask him about this.

Julie forgot he told me
to take some souvenir pictures

when we drove over
to Biloxi last year.

Is that her or not?

Did Baby Feets kill this girl?

Come on, Lieutenant.

You know how it works.

A guy like Julie don't do hits.

He says something to somebody,

then he forgets it.

If it's a special kind of job,
maybe somebody calls up a geek.

Did Baby Feets make that call?

Start a photo album, Lieutenant.

Make up your own mind.

What's Murphy Doucet
doing in this picture?

What's wrong, Dave?

Got a loose ignition wire.

You got a knife I could use?

Yeah, I ought to have something.

This should do.

Some Mexican pulled this on me
in Lake Charles.

I didn't know
you were a cop in Lake Charles.

I wasn't.

I was working highway
for the state police.

That's where
I retired from last year.

Is that when you got into
business with Twinky LeMoyne?

No, we go back a ways further.

Thanks for the knife.

What's the deal?

Lou Girard was
looking at her file last week.

Lou arrested her

on a prostitution charge.

It wouldn't be one officer.

It was a state police raid
on a bar --

State police?
Who sent that arrest report?

Oh, Sgt. Murphy Doucet.

Murphy Doucet.

I'd missed it.

Lou Girard had dug up
Cherry LeBlanc's arrest record,

and it had cost him his life.

But this was going to be the end
of the line for Murphy Doucet.

I wasn't planting evidence,
I kept telling myself.

I was just removing it

before a guilty man
could destroy it.

Why the hell are y'all here?

We're here because of you,
Mr. Doucet.

We've been checking
all the unsolved murders

of females in areas
surrounding highways

during the time you were working
for the state police.

Rosie, I think

we just found the knife

that he used on Cherry LeBlanc.

That knife wasn't there.

I say it was,

and I say your fingerprints
are all over it.

I see.

You and this Mexican bitch
are in on it together, huh?

No, Murphy.

I'm fucking you all by myself.

Get your hands up now.

Get your hands up,
up against that --

up against that wall.

Y'all are setting me up,
and I don't even know why.

Think about it.

Think hard.

Think all the way back to 1965,

just before that hurricane hit.

Y'all made DeWitt Prejean
run with that chain

locked around his chest,

shot his leg out
from underneath him.

You didn't notice the boy
that was watching you

from across the swamp,
though, did you?

I don't know how you did it,
but you planted that knife.

Time is always on
the bad guy's side, Rosie.

We wait for warrants while
they deep-six the evidence.

I didn't hear what you said.

Jesus wienie, Dave.

Y'all done
tore this place to pieces.

You want to stay behind
and clean it up?

I don't want to be
nowhere around here

when that guy gets home.

You heard he's out on bond?

Screw that.

He'll be here any minute.

We got nothing.

Alfie.

You know where

your little girl's at?

She's right here on my knee.

You sound speechless.

Turn her loose, Doucet.

You don't want to do this.

I'll make it simple
for both of us.

You take that knife
out of the evidence locker,

you put it in a Ziploc bag.

At 8:00 tomorrow morning,

you leave the bag in a trash can

on the corner of Royal
and St. Anne in New Orleans.

You listen to me, Doucet.

Think about this.

You're a cop.

You can skate on this.

We've been jacking you around
the whole time.

You lying son of a bitch.

You won't rest till you
fuck me up every way you can.

You said
only one thing right today:

I'm going to skate.

And you're going to help me.

Finally lost your mind, Dave?

Young lady, you need
to stay away from this man.

Okay, let's go.

Get out of here.
Come on, let's go.

Nothing good
on TV tonight, Dave?

Murphy Doucet has my daughter.

Did you hear what I said?

That's too bad.

I don't like
to hear stuff like that.

It upsets me.

Hey, maybe you can get her face
on one of them milk cartons.

Where's my daughter, Julie?

Oh!

Ah!

Uh!

Where's Alafair at?

I cut Doucet loose.

I got nothing to do
with what he does.

You get off my fucking back

or I swear to God,
I'll square this.

Cop or not,
I'll put out on open contract.

I'll cowboy
your whole fucking family.

Ah!

Your window of opportunity's
closing down.

Where's my baby girl?

I'm telling you the truth.

I got nothing to do
with what he does.

He's a geek.

I don't hire geeks.
I run them off.

Last by God chance.

He's got a camp
out by Bayou Vista,

almost at Atchafalaya Basin.

The deed's not in his name.

Nobody knows about it.

It's at the end
of the dirt road,

by the salt marsh.

Alafair there?

I hope to God she's not.

Alfie!

Come here.

Did he hurt you, baby?

I told him he better not.

I told him what you do.

I just shot a man
armed with a rolled-up magazine.

No, no.

He had a gun on him.

You just don't
remember it yet.

You okay?

Should I call my lawyer?

Mr. LeMoyne,

I saw you and Murphy Doucet

kill DeWitt Prejean
out on the Atchafalaya.

I watched it
from across the swamp.

Your crippled brother
couldn't kill DeWitt,

so you did it for him.

Am I under arrest?

I think Murphy Doucet's
been blackmailing you with it

all these years.

A lot of bad things happened
back in that era

between the races.

But we're not the same people

we were then,
are we?

I think we are.

You seem unable
to let the past rest.

It's been my experience

that you let go of the past
by addressing it.

Please, leave.

It won't make
any difference if I leave.

You're going to drag
this one around with you

all day long every day,
like a log chain,

for the rest of your life.

Have you no mercy, sir?

No, sir.

No, sir, I don't.

Julie Balboni

finally went down,

but in a way nobody expected,

in a beef with the IRS.

They shipped Baby Feet

up to a maximum security unit

at Leavenworth, Kansas,

a place that, in wintertime,

makes you believe
that sub-zero winds

blow from four
directions simultaneously.

Elrod Sykes
never took another drink.

He brought Alafair to the set

and gave her a little part
in the movie.

Months later,
when the picture was finished,

he called us from California

to say that Alafair
had been his salvation.

I thought in the morning mists

that curled around the bayou

I might again see
General John Bell Hood,

just a glimpse, perhaps,

a doff of his hat,

the kindness of his smile,

the beleaguered affection

that always seemed
to linger in his face.

Then as the days passed

and I began to let go
of all the violent events

of that summer,

I came to accept that the General,

as Bootsie had said,

was only a figment
of my imagination,

there to remind me
out of the distant past

that the contest
is never quite over,

the field never quite ours.