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WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

1 - Synced and corrected by naFraC - - www.MY-SUBS.com -

I've been looking everywhere for this.

Wait, sorry, you've been looking everywhere for

The Hierarchies of Cuckoldry and Bankruptcy by Charles Forrier?

- Fourier. - Fourier.

The writer had a lot of revolutionary ideas,

- but was also funny as hell. - Hmm.

"Fourier offers a caustic critique of a civilization

that overregulates sexual congress

while allowing the financial sector to screw over the public."

Sounds, um... Sounds hilarious.

I've never heard you talk about him before.

- Well, it's not for me. It... It's a gift. - Ah. Cool.

For, um... For who?

Iggy.

From Land of A Thousand Dances.

His real name's Nicky,

which I can tell you because you're gonna meet him on New Year's.

He's having a party at his place.

It's this squat in Chinatown.

So filthy, but so fun.

And also surprisingly educational.

He was kind of, sort of in Ex Post Facto.

Oh, so this guy's basically, like, a legend to you?

Not that I would ever let him know that.

The key to meeting your heroes

is pretending like you do not give a shit about them.

Thought the key was to never meet them.

A-A-And it kind of seems like you do care,

since you're getting him, like, a present and stuff, so...

Well, I'm buying him a book.

I buy books for people, Charles.

I gift knowledge.

Well, you've never gotten one for me.

Oh, I'm gonna get you one.

I'm gonna get you one.

"Corduroy"?

So, it's about this bear who loses a button.

You're gonna love it.

- Could have asked me to smile. - That seemed like a tall order.

It wasn't of you.

That street art.

Stop gentrification. Save the city you love.

- Hey, um, I have a question. - Yeah?

Wh-Why are we trying to save the thing that we actively burned down?

Sometimes you have to set the world on fire to fix it.

You've heard Nicky.

I don't know.

I don't really get what he's talking about.

But it beats county jail or the back of Sol's van.

We help Nicky with his missions, and he takes care of us.

- Mmm. - Some dude in a suit pushes an envelope

of cash through the mail slot once a month. I try not to analyze it.

Wait, someone pays for that place?

Yeah, we have toilets that flush. You should go by C-Squat sometime.

Speaking of, I gotta pee. Think we put in our time here.

Oh. Dump, like, a dozen flyers.

Not enough to make Nicky suspicious,

but enough to make it seem like we changed some hearts and minds.

Hey. Twenty for a hand job. Fifty for head.

- The second one. - Hmm.

Okay. I'm gonna need the cash first though, please.

We gotta go.

You're under arrest, Tinker Bell.

- What the fuck, Charlie? - Let's go.

Shit.

Officer!

Go, go! Come on!

Shit.

- Sorry. - Sorry!

Like I said, you're under arrest.

Better be good.

Sorry, uh, this a bad time?

I'm, uh, at that appointment, I think I mentioned.

Oh. Oh, so you, uh, really got your hands full?

Hey, uh, real quick, did we get a...

an ID off the CCTV cam at the dorm?

Back of the guy's head. He's tall, clean-cut like Panda Girl said.

But, uh, that's not why I'm calling.

William Hamilton-Sweeney is asking for you.

He's the owner of the suit Mr. Goodman was wearing

the night of Samantha's shooting.

Also, he's one of those Hamilton-Sweeneys.

All right, well, uh, keep him there.

Oh, he's not going anywhere. He got, uh, picked up for solicitation.

Tried to run. Seems Mr. Goodman left your card in his pants,

and now he thinks he's got a friend in the department.

Wow. Okay.

Al, are you on a call?

No, I'll be there soon.

I just had to get that out of the way so I could focus.

This is hard for me, you know?

- My mother would not approve. - Now you're thinking about your mother?

Ali, your mom wants grandkids.

She's not gonna ask where they came from.

Will, I can't find your basketball jersey.

Can you just wear a fucking T-shirt?

No, I want my jersey.

Hi, Stu. I'll be there by 10:00. I have to get the kids to camp.

Okay, because I think I saw a fax I wasn't supposed to see.

- And you're gonna wanna see it too. - What is it?

You would know better than me.

I'm just gonna put it in a drawer in your desk.

Okay, thanks. Bye.

Okay, thanks.

Hey, you! I see you.

Same as I told you before,

if you're not on anybody's approved visitor list,

- you don't get to visit anybody. - I know, but I come in peace.

- I don't trust your face. Go. Now. - Okay. S-Sorry.

- Music isn't too loud? - Not at all.

Hopefully, it brightens up her day. And yours.

I'm gonna go grab a coffee. Bring you one?

Much appreciated, Mr. Yeung.

- Cream and sugar? - Sounds good.

Are you a reporter?

- Do I need to call security? - No. No.

- Hey. - Where are you?

- Where are you? - I was on my way to the office.

- Same. - But I need you to redirect over here.

- There's a problem. - What kind of problem?

- Just get here as soon as you can, okay? - No, what's going on?

Regan, it's more than a little out of my way.

It's Will. It's serious, Keith.

Uh, breaking up. Ba-Bad cell spot. But yeah, I'll-I'll be right there.

The, u-um, person I came to see al-already checked out.

M-M-Maybe who-whoever y-you're visiting would want these?

Daisies are her favorite. How'd you know?

He's leaving.

- Follow him. - Will do.

Without the curls, there's no way anyone will recognize you.

Except for every other aspect of my appearance.

- Starting with my face. - Okay. Check it out.

My masterpiece is complete.

What's wrong? You look cute.

Not all guys could pull this off,

but you have a really good head shape.

It's not the haircut. Though that's not really... helping.

Then what?

What have I done? I'm a wanted man.

Sam's still in a coma. I have no idea who shot her.

Oh, and also, I got talked into bombing a building.

- So I'm, like, a bomber now. - Hey. It's okay.

I just have a bad feeling.

You know, you're not the only person who's ever had these thoughts.

This is what it's like when you first break away

from the regular world and come live here.

What the hell is going on here? Are those my clippers?

- Those are my clippers. - Hey! Go easy on him.

If you ask me, we've all gone a little too easy on this kid.

Stop!

Hey, except nobody asked you, Sol.

Charlie needs us. He's a fugitive, okay? There's wanted posters.

What? Then he can't stay here.

Nicky, he'll bring too much heat.

It ain't enough to shave his curly locks.

Nah, you're safe here, Prophet. And we protect our own.

We avenge those who cross us.

So, you're the roommate.

He uses that one on strangers too, huh?

Thought it was just his mom. I suppose my reputation precedes me.

Well, your drug habit does.

But solicitation? That is a new one.

Relax. I wasn't actually going to do it.

I was just gonna... take the money and run.

So much more honorable. You know, Mercer seems like a nice guy.

- I thought he'd have better taste. - Right,

I have been trying to tell him that for a long time.

He's too good for this world. Wouldn't last a minute behind bars.

- And you would? - That is

why I am trying to appeal to your better angels.

Like you said, this is my first offense,

and I am just trying to figure out whether it makes sense

for this fine police department to use all of its resources

to try and prosecute me.

Absolutely. Maybe a little prison time would be good for you.

There's no better way to kick a habit than cold turkey in a jail cell.

I have been living in my studio,

and I didn't want Mercer to see all of this.

Detective, I'm guilty of obstinance,

false pride, uh, terrible judgment...

but not prostitution.

All right.

Um, say if I can get these, uh, charges dropped, you know,

convince the undercover vice cop you were just being friendly,

what would you do for me? For Mercer?

You gonna check into rehab? Go to an NA meeting?

- What if I help you solve this case? - Excuse me?

I mean, I've been staring at this wall for a while now,

waiting for you.

And those dots.

This is all for the girl who was shot in Central Park, right?

- The one that Mercer found. - Yeah.

And have you figured out that this is me yet?

Billy Three-Sticks.

I thought you were some kind of painter.

Multi-talented.

Uh, you see, I wa... I-I was in the band, and then I wasn't.

Uh... I had to walk away. I stumbled, really.

Just... Our guitar player OD'd, died,

and I didn't want to play without him.

I mean, I couldn't really. So...

I was only slightly less fucked up than he was.

So I left.

- This album is hers? - Mm-hmm.

- And she was at this show? - Mm-hmm.

- Wow. This is her, right? Samantha? - Yeah.

I do not know any Samanthas. Does she go by something else?

Not that I'm aware.

- Right. - You know all your fans by name?

Fuck if I wasn't also at this show,

and fuck if I didn't meet this kid at the club afterwards.

He was doing coke with this guy, lead singer.

"Lead singer" is a bit of a stretch. More like a karaoke version of me.

Goes by Nicky Chaos.

Uh, this kid, he mentioned that he was...

he was going to go meet someone.

Uh, could have been a Sam or Samantha,

I guess. Honestly, I have no idea.

But he mentioned that she was a writer,

that she wrote something about me and Nicky.

In here.

We're looking for the kid.

Charles Weisbarger.

Charles Weisbarger.

Honestly, he may know something,

but didn't really seem like the murdering type.

Hmm.

You know, I only, uh, scanned it so far, but, um,

she writes about you guys a lot.

Like, don't you think it's weird that this girl, Samantha,

who is obsessed with me and my band,

gets shot in a park across the street from my father's house?

And found by your boyfriend.

He wasn't supposed to be at that party.

I don't know exactly what he said to you, but uh,

he was not invited,

and I was... not expected.

'Cause I haven't talked to my family in more than 15 years.

It all kind of went to shit after my mom died.

But, uh, obviously, there is a connection here, right?

- You called him? - How'd I know you were gonna be so helpful?

All right.

Go home. Take a shower. Eat something.

I'll deal with your charges.

You think of anything, you call me.

Hey, can I take those?

Yeah, they're copies.

We figure out who the connection to Samantha is,

- we figure out who shot her. - Mmm.

Hey, what's going on?

Come with me.

The L key is missing.

So we should get him a new one?

- Is that what you brought me here for? - The note. The note from her.

"He is lying to you." The L was actually a number one.

Are you sure?

Every keystroke is permanently imprinted on my brain.

She said she didn't write it. I-I didn't believe her.

Oh, shit.

He knew about the affair, Keith. How did Will know about the affair?

I don't know.

I don't know. I-I-I was always very discreet.

I tried to be.

We never went anywhere that anyone would see us.

- She never came to the house. - Except... one time.

Stay here.

She came to the apartment once.

Hey. What did I tell you?

What are you gonna do? Punish me?

- Oh, my God, Keith. - I didn't want her to come up,

but she did, and nothing happened, and no one was home.

I'm sorry. It's just weird here.

That you knew of. Will is 12. He has a key!

Explains a lot.

I'm so sorry. I never intended...

- Fuck you and your intentions. - What do you want me to do?

- You want me to go? - I want you to die.

- You don't mean that. - I really do. Except, I need you alive,

because you are the father of my children, and they love you.

And they're hurting enough.

We're gonna have to crack this thing open and actually read it.

Well, you're on your own. I'm not a fan of comic books.

- I never know where I'm supposed to look. - That's very helpful.

- Hmm. - Hey, Detective, got a sec?

Gloria Fan was somewhere east of Bowery

when the drugs began to take hold.

Street numbers turned to letters,

and the cabs rolling past were suddenly an exquisite yellow,

their headlights like drops of milk in the weak tea of the day.

How much of this was observed by Dirty Paul,

his enormous hands dwarfing the wheel of his white panel van,

his beefy frame straining the seams of

his Rangers jersey, she couldn't say.

Piper had her head out the window, as usual.

Like a happy puppy, she shut her eyes and smiled,

letting the wind blow back her hair.

Iggy was buzzing though.

Knowing him, his ecstasy was not pharmaceutically induced,

due to rather the exhilaration of being alive

and doing something naughty.

What can I say about C?

What this human lacks in experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm.

You can show him a certain building you like,

or a tree even, and for him

it will be the coolest building or tree he's ever seen.

When you tell him a story,

any story, his face lights up like a girandole.

Today, a rather beautiful preppy stands on the steps

of Iggy's broke-down palace.

He's come by to deliver a package,

but a twist of fate has delivered him to me.

When he gives me a ride uptown, I hover above and look down on myself,

on a life totally different than anything I ever thought I wanted.

As I scribble my phone number on his wrist,

I see myself through his eyes, and I like what I see.

Someone bring me a whole bunch of thumbtacks!

Um, hey.

Hi, there.

Uh... I'm sorry. Um, I'm sorry. I can't... I can't do that.

Okay.

I thought you liked me.

I mean, I do. You're-You're very... You're very... You're very likable.

I mean, a-at this point, I consider you to be one of my best friends.

I mean, no offense to Mickey Sullivan, but...

As far as I know, you only have one other friend, and she's in a coma.

Um...

Even if I'm not, technically, Sam's boyfriend,

and even though I don't know exactly how she feels about me,

giving my heart or any part of my body to anybody else

would be like giving up on her. And I just...

I just can't really do that.

I have to believe that she's gonna be okay and, uh...

And that I'll find my way back to her, so...

Yeah.

Lorraine.

My real name.

Mayor Michael Bloomberg today...

Uh, Tanqueray with...

a twist.

... that the initiative is partly responsible for the city's...

Coming back to that Bronx fire

we told you about a couple weeks ago. While investigators first linked...

- Nice twist. - ... arson that's been sweeping

through the borough in recent months,

today, the NYPD and Homeland Security reported that

the fire was caused by an improvised explosive device, or IED.

... has come back negative for deadly biological or chemical agents,

but DHS say they are not ready to rule out te...

Okay, so when you found the girl, there was no one else around, right?

I can't do this anymore.

You weren't curious when it happened to me

and now it's all you talk about.

That was before I knew she was an Ex Post Facto fan.

I meant this not in a conceited way.

W-We only sold so many records, right?

And she had one. And she was at the Ex Nihilo show, she left.

She went to go sit in a park, across the street from my dad's house,

which is where you found her. Shot.

Maybe Nicky knows the answers to this,

or he'll definitely at least know the right questions to ask.

How about the questions I have?

Like, how you ended up arrested for prostitution?

Will you sit still and talk to me?

Mercer.

I'm just trying to work here, okay?

Which is hard enough fucking self-weaning off heroin. All right?

As long as I have waited for you to create again,

it will have to wait a little longer.

- I-I-I... I called him. - There is a car outside with a bag packed.

William, I'm taking you to the airport.

There is a facility in Florida that has agreed to detox you.

Followed by 28 days of addiction therapy. So, we leave right now?

- No. No, no. - No. The LIE. The traffic is not good.

I am not going anywhere. I appreciate it. Okay? I do, but I can't go.

- I have to figure this shit out. - William,

you cannot figure out addiction on your own.

I'm not talking about that!

I'm talking about the girl in the park, all right?

NYPD has no idea what happened to her.

What girl is he talking about?

The girl who was shot in Central Park.

Oh, I'm sorry. William is now solving crimes?

No, no. He's just substituting one addiction for another.

Mercer, this girl is connected to us.

I don't know how. I don't know why. But for some reason,

I think I'm the only one that can figure this shit out. Okay?

- I have to figure this out. - William, please.

Will you just come with me? The car is...

Mercer.

Can you at least tell me where you're going?

The best of men are often the most difficult to love.

I wish this cliché was not true... ...but it is.

This is pretty good, SG. Better than your usual slop.

Hey! My mom's dirty rice. It's amazing.

What happened to Sam's camera?

What?

Um, I was just...

I was thinking. It went missing sometime before she got shot.

Maybe there's a connection there.

When I asked her about it, she just got weird, so...

- Weird like how? - Evasive.

She didn't say much, or anything at all, really.

It's just that that camera was like an extension of her body.

She would've looked for it. She would've asked if you'd seen it, right?

- Did she tell you guys anything about it? - Nothing.

She just stopped having it around.

Relax, kid. Nicky's all over it.

Actually, we've got a pretty good idea who did it.

Could ask him right now.

- Yo. - Oh, Nicky, is it true that you, you know?

Oh, sorry, kid. I gotta jet.

- Where you going? Want me to come? - No, no, no. Solo mission.

Don't worry. Shouldn't be long.

- See ya. - Yeah.

Help me with the dishes, Charlie,

and I'll help you look for Sam's camera.

Mr. Gould. You wanted to see me?

Yes.

Thank you for coming.

Tell me, Nicholas, did you know that I was orphaned as a child?

No. Never really said more than a few words to me.

For a child, growing up without parents

is poverty on a different scale.

It gives you a certain amount of...

permission.

Permission to do what?

Whatever it takes.

I want you to understand how hard I've worked to get where I am.

I'm a man who's created for himself and his sister

the life they yearned for.

And I'm a man who's not about to let some idiot punk

- jeopardize that life's mission. - Wait.

- You're talking about the last fire? - The Department of Homeland Security

- believes there are terrorists on 175th... - Terrorists?

That's right.

According to my sources in the New York Fire Department,

that building was blown up with a bomb.

Yeah, a bomb.

- Made from highly dangerous black powder. - It was very effective.

- It was fucking beautiful. - Yeah.

- You should've seen the fucking flames... - It was fucking stupid, is what it was.

You know f... Y-You s... You said,

"Change it up. Don't make it all look like one guy."

- And then you f... - You make bad decisions.

You have very little impulse control.

And we're done.

Yo, but we... we need that money. Other people count on me.

You should've thought of that.

Then I'll tell the cops what I know.

About the fires?

- You'd only be indicting yourself. - No, no, no, no, no, no.

About the girl.

Yeah. You know, the one that got shot in the park.

She was sleeping with your delivery guy.

You couldn't have been happy about that.

- So unhappy that you think I'd shoot her? - You know, you said it yourself.

You do what it takes.

She was a loose end.

You don't like those.

I assure you, Nicky, if I shot someone, they'd be dead.

These pins are every address on Samantha's mailing list.

What do you notice?

Uh, they're mostly, uh, downtown, Brooklyn.

- One in Long Island. Is that Charlie? - Mm-hmm. Leaving what?

Uh, this, uh, spot right here. Who's that?

That is the address of Keith Lamplighter,

principal of Lamplighter Capital and Associates.

- Why do I know that name? - Because our witness, Mercer Goodman,

attended an Independence Day party thrown by the Hamilton-Sweeneys.

Which he was invited to by Regan Hamilton-Sweeney Lamplighter,

- Keith's wife. - Was he at the party?

Invited, but according to the doorman's log, which we retrieved...

he did not attend.

So, Samantha's favorite band's playing downtown, right?

But the bouncer at the club says that she left

to go meet someone uptown.

And she goes, and she sits right here,

across the street from the party.

- You think she was meeting Lamplighter? - Mm-hmm.

How would she know a guy like that?

The man who came by Samantha's dorm was older, right?

Seemed rich.

In here, she writes about this preppy guy

who shows up one day and gives her a ride uptown.

It's the only mention of her ever going north of 14th Street.

Feast your eyes on this footage from the dorm.

It's Keith "Preppy Guy" Lamplighter.

What do you think? Our body weight in popcorn?

Only if we get sodas the size of our heads.

Hey, a joke.

That's a good sign. Like my kid's still in there somewhere.

I still don't understand what we're doing here.

When you took me out of camp, I thought something bad happened.

I just want to spend a little Fast & Furious time with my son.

Sorry, make that 2 Fast 2 Furious.

Go, uh, find us seats. I'll... I'll... I'll get the stuff.

- The theater's gonna be empty. - Just go.

You know I have strong opinions about seat choice. Make me proud.

Guys... I don't want any trouble.

Wait, wait. Ow.

Hey, hey! Hey! My kid's here!

He's next if you don't shut up.

First, you fucked Sam.

Then you fucked us.

We got fired today.

No way to pay the bills.

T-Take... Take it.

Thanks.

Oh, fu...

Leave me alone!

- Dad? - Oh.

Hey.

It's okay.

Mm-hmm. Yeah, well, I can give them a call.

That's no problem.

So, how'd I do?

The... The fax I intercepted?

Aren't you on this call taking notes?

Bluetooth. Sick, right? Uh, the... the fax.

I... I forgot. I... I'm sorry I got distracted.

Hi, I'm here.

Mm-hmm.

Hi, Mathes.

Can you put my dad on the phone?

I'm sorry, Regan, but now's not a good time.

Mathes, sometimes my voice goes up at the end of a sentence,

and it's not really a question.

So, put my father on the phone right now.

Sir, it's Regan. Sounds urgent.

Thanks.

- Hi, sweetie. - Hi, Daddy. How are you?

I'm okay. Lot of questions from the lawyers.

We'll have lunch tomorrow. I wanna hear about everything,

but something's come on my radar that maybe you can explain.

- Okay. - I have a memo here

from the mayor's office. It's to Amory.

Apparently, the Hamilton-Sweeney Group's application

for a Blight Decree has been suspended pending investigation.

Hold on.

Blight Decree.

That's a dirty-pool tactic used by thugs and Mafia types

forcing hardworking people out of their homes,

not paying them what they're worth.

My father refused to ever stoop that low,

and he taught me to follow his example.

That's what I thought. Um, so,

how do we find out more without asking Amory?

Well, I still have some friends in Giuliani's office.

Why don't I find out what we're dealing with?

Bloomberg's the mayor now, Daddy.

But yes, you still have friends everywhere.

I'll send you the fax. Just stand by the machine

so that Mathes doesn't get his mitts on it.

Right now.

- Okay. I... I love you, Daddy. Bye. - Love you too.

- Hello, officers. - You got the place bugged?

Or is, uh, my suit just that bad?

Uh, my assistant is very good at his job.

Listen, I'm happy to walk you over to our legal department.

They're handling all the inquiries about my father's case.

Oh, we're not here about your dad. This is about your husband.

Yeah. We actually came to talk to him, but uh,

apparently he's not in today.

I wasn't aware.

- You work in the same building. - Yeah, but not at the same company.

Um, and plus we're separated.

I'm not fully briefed on his comings and goings.

You heard about the girl shot in Central Park?

Yeah... um, what about her?

The girl self-published the magazine that your husband subscribed to.

And in it, we think we found a reference

to them meeting. Hitting it off.

- Was your husband with you on July 4th? - No, like I said, we're separated.

But he was invited to the party you attended?

Did he show up?

I feel like you're doing that thing where you ask me, uh, questions,

um, that you already know the answer to.

Guilty as charged.

But let me flip the script and ask you something I don't already know.

Your separation.

Was infidelity involved?

The girl in the park is a freshman.

You know...

Keith is not perfect, but he would never...

Whose idea was the divorce?

- Mine. - And how's your ex taking it?

- Not well. - You keep a gun in the house?

All due respect to our brave brothers and sisters in blue,

but you cannot be talking to Ms. Hamilton-Sweeney without a lawyer.

There are about a dozen of them down the hall. Take your pick.

My niece is far too lovely to be rude,

so allow me. This is very inappropriate.

She seems just fine to me.

Please. Allow me to show you to the lawyers.

Move on down the hall. I love the suit.

Who are you wearing?

Stu?

Get Keith for me.

Uh, your next meeting's here? They're waiting in the conference room.

Okay. Okay.

Sam loves books. Not just reading, but like, actual, physical books.

She said she wanted a perfume that smells

like an old edition of Rimbaud.

In fact...

That is pretty good.

There's no camera. There's... There's nothing in here.

God.

I missed Sam when I was grounded.

And, like, being without her killed me. But this is just...

This is just so much worse.

Uh, Sam kept some stuff in the bathroom. I'll go check it out.

Okay.

- Yell if you find anything. - Yeah.

"Eight, three. Eight, three. Eight, three."

Eighty-three.

"Look behind the horse."

Look behind the horse.

Where's a horse? What's... What's a horse?

Hey, Prophet. Get your ass down here.

Yeah, be right there.

What the fuck is this?

Okay. There's a new plan.

Look, I didn't want to bite the hand that fed us,

but that hand's become a fist.

It's time to blow it the fuck off.

- Ready when you are, boss. - Solomon Grungy, you sir,

have outdone yourself.

Where's Charlie?

Hey, bud. We're okay.

They were just muggers.

We're... We're fine.

Cancel the credit cards, ice this lip. Be like it didn't happen.

It wouldn't have happened if you'd just gone to work instead of trying

to be the world's greatest dad.

Maybe I was trying to score some dad points.

Yeah, it's only 'cause I know I let you down.

Will... um...

Y-Your mom and I, we know that you saw something

that you never should have seen.

Me with a young woman here.

I forgot my lacrosse jersey.

Mom told me to put it in my bag and I said I would, but I didn't.

I came home without telling anyone. I heard you.

Thanks for telling me.

No one's mad at you. We're mad at me. I... I'm mad at myself.

The note you sent. It's okay. I understand.

I-I just want to talk about it.

Why did you do it?

Do you not love Mom anymore?

Why did I, um...

Maybe you'll understand when you're older.

M-Maybe you never will.

The point is...

I failed you all in-in a really big way.

In the biggest way possible. And for that, I'm truly sorry.

It's your mom.

Hey, if camp called about Will, I-I signed him out. He's with me.

Two police detectives were here.

Hang on. Uh... yeah, what... what about?

You.

The girl in the park, that was her that you were fucking.

Yeah.

She was a college freshman.

I thought she was older.

Older than what, a child?

- Where were you on July 4th? - Because you think I shot her?

No, because I hope to God you have an alibi.

Are you really asking me?

Of course not. I mean, where would you get a gun?

Keith. Tell me honestly. Do you think there's a connection?

That girl was standing outside a party you were supposed to be at.

New York City can feel like a small town,

but that is too big a coincidence.

I think I'm gonna go.

Wait a second. Let me walk you out.

No, don't bother. Someone might see us.

Sam, come on. Wait. Wait.

Wait. Will, wait.

Hey, son. Is your dad home?

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