Original subtitles

(MUSIC PLAYING)

NELSON: When there has been a reduction in force

at the Central Intelligence Agency,

and you're the one who's been riffed,

it's not always easy to find a new job.

When a prospective employer asks for your skills,

you can't very well say that they've been blackmail,

bribery, subversion,

the odd kidnapping...

Still, there are legitimate businesses

who are looking for people...

Exactly like you.

COMPUTER: Question correct.

(CIGARETTE LIGHTER CLICKS)

COMPUTER: Question correct.

Question correct.

Question correct.

Question correct.

Question correct.

Question correct.

(DOOR OPENS)

Time's up.

I haven't quite finished yet.

Almost no one does.

Those who do are geniuses.

We're not in the market for genius.

Why not?

Smart's smart, isn't it?

Genius bores easily.

Tends to brood. Then to plot.

Palace revolts?

Sexual conquests, mostly.

So, what's next? More tests?

No, that's the last.

After it's scored, the computer will work up a total evaluation.

If it's satisfactory, you see Mr. Grimes.

What happens if the computer doesn't like me?

We wave goodbye.

(DOOR OPENS)

(DOOR CLOSES)

I'm gonna call this one the Mitterrand Misapprehension.

Hmm.

So... Just what we expected.

He's an aggressive, healthy heterosexual male

with a superior IQ of 141.

He's divorced, no children,

has a BA from Michigan in Political Science,

good Spanish, fair French, quite a little Arabic,

and according to his test results,

just a touch of paranoia.

VIC GRIMES: Paranoia's good. It keeps one careful.

How much was the bribe to the Iraqi colonel?

MARGARET: 50,000 in gold.

The colonel swore he never got it. Crowe swore he did.

The agency paymaster believed the colonel.

GRIMES: So the agency dismissed Mr. Crowe?

MARGARET: After he broke the paymaster's jaw, yes.

Hello, Mr. Grimes.

Well, Mr. Nelson Crowe.

Nice to meet you. How do you do?

Very well, thank you. Late of Managua, huh?

Amman, Panama, and other garden spots.

Yes. Sit down, will you?

Welcome to the tool shed.

Tool shed?

Well, that's a bit before your time, I suspect.

Those infamous and long-ago Senate hearings

on covert operations run wild.

They called in old Nate Packer to testify. You've heard of him?

Well, who hasn't?

He's a man of impeccable manners.

Answered even the dumbest questions with care and courtesy.

Then somebody asked him

the question he most wanted to hear.

So, old Nate puts on this stud poker expression of his

and he tells the senators that the way to solve

their loose cannon or rogue elephant problems in covert ops

is to round up some fit, trained specimens,

much like Margaret here, and yourself,

and then lock them away in a tool shed until they're needed.

He really said "tool shed"? Yes, he really did.

And that's when I had a flash of pure inspiration.

I told myself, the government is never gonna buy

this brilliant concept, but private industry might.

So, three years later I left the agency

and I began building my very own tool shed.

Must be paying off, unless it's all front.

You might be interested to learn that 21 of our clients

are among the nation's top 500 companies.

And that's just our domestic side.

And we're equally active in foreign clients, Mr. Crowe.

Once the world sensibly turned from Cold War to commerce,

we picked up a half a dozen new clients.

A couple of them from behind the erstwhile Iron Curtain.

So, we are thriving, I assure you.

Doing whatever needs doing... For a price.

Precisely.

Do you care to join us?

How much?

How much?

Seventy five to start.

Say 80.

Oh, he wants 80. He does.

All right.

When?

When do you start? Yes.

Would five minutes be too much for you to handle?

Not a problem.

Margaret?

Let's say 10.

Ten.

Very well. Pleasure.

Same here. Thank you, Mr. Grimes.

Nice neighborhood.

Oh, yeah. Very respectable.

You'd be surprised.

Nothing much surprises me anymore, Ms. Wells.

And somehow that doesn't surprise me.

So, what's our assignment?

Information's on a need-to-know basis.

All right.

(SONG PLAYING ON SPEAKERS)

♪ I want to go higher

♪ I want to go higher

♪ If I ever get down In the dumps

♪ Short of a dollar Nothing change for months

♪ It seems to rain About every day

♪ And all the news Seems kinda gray

♪ It's no illusion Call it reality

♪ So I release more Charge from my battery

♪ We can rise Death defy gravity

♪ Bring about a sense Of personality

♪ So as I walk I look around

♪ See some go up Some go down

♪ There goes the mayor His nose is brown

♪ Guess how he get To wear his crown

♪ But his hands are shaking The walls are breaking

♪ And one day They will all fall down

♪ Sometimes It's better that way

♪ Making space for a some day

♪ We're on the ground floor Got lots to learn

♪ Slip to the basement And you burn

You know how to work one of these?

You bet.

♪ Tell me now where Do ya want to go

♪ Higher baby

♪ I want to go higher

♪ Where did you want to go?

♪ I want to go higher

♪ I want to go higher

♪ So tell me baby Kinda shaky

What the fuck is this?

As of COB today, Mr. Cartwain,

you are no longer President of Curl Industries.

Maybe nobody told you, shit for brains,

but my sister is a major stockholder in Curl Industries.

And if that little prick thinks he can fire me...

Soon as your sister sees this tape of you and, um...

I don't think Mom's gonna like this, Uncle Johnny.

"Uncle Johnny?"

Mmm, mmm, mmm.

♪ Just returning My native call

♪ And that's the way We're getting by ya

♪ Always keeping you on the wire ♪

(DOOR CLOSES)

Some day.

Yeah, right.

(STARTS ENGINE)

Where's my fucking money?

In the mailbox, where else?

All in 50s, like I said?

Mmm, 10,000, in 50s.

(LAUGHS) You know what?

That was kind of fun, wasn't it?

(KNOCKS)

What's up?

You're our FNG?

Yes, I am.

Your "Fucking New Guy."

And you are?

Tod Stapp.

With two Ps.

Nice to meet you, Tod. Nelson Crowe.

Margaret brief you?

On just about everything, yes.

Thank you.

(SIGHS)

Everything but herself, right? Right.

Well, to answer a few of your unasked questions, she's 36...

Out of Holyoke by way of the agency.

Married? Single.

And you call her...

Margaret. Or Ms. Wells.

Never Maggie.

Ah, Maggie.

What do you really call her?

Snow Queen.

Snow Queen? Right.

Tell me about her, Margaret. Who?

Cartwain's niece.

Is she really as young as they say?

Younger. Sixteen at the most.

And pretty, hmm?

I hear they say she's very pretty.

Judge for yourself.

Yes.

Oh!

Yes, yes.

You know, perhaps you should have a copy of the tape itself.

Perhaps I should. Hmm.

You know, uh...

If it weren't for my health,

I would've sacked Cartwain myself,

for his obstinacy and treachery.

Now, this... This incest thing...

He could've blown us out of the water on the Cross Creek case.

Could have. Can't. Not anymore.

Let's talk about Cross Creek versus Curl Industries.

According to our inquiries,

the court is leaning four to three against you.

But I don't understand why.

Cross Creek has no case.

The facts and the truth support us.

All we want is simple justice.

Simple justice runs a bit high these days, Walter.

If the court rules in Cross Creek's favor, what'll it cost you?

Absolute minimum.

25 million, at least. Oh.

Now, for only 4% of that, for a mere $1 million,

you can buy yourself your very own

State Supreme Court justice.

And a favorable verdict.

Are you sure?

Are you positive? Take a look at us, Walter.

Do either Margaret or I look as if we want to go to jail?

Before you attempt to suborn a State Supreme Court justice,

or even a justice of the peace,

you first make sure he's got his hand out.

Way out. Way out. Here.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS IN DISTANCE)

(TV PLAYING IN BACKGROUND)

(SHUFFLING CARDS)

(SIGHS HEAVILY)

Two no-trump, doubled.

Game and rubber.

(SIGHS) How much, Les?

It's $970 to you, Beachie.

Phil gets off with $210, and the Doc...

Breaks even.

They got lucky on that last finesse, Judge.

Oh, it's not luck. That was skill.

(GROANS) Well, bedtime.

Same time next week, gentlemen, mmm?

LES: Care for a nightcap, Beach?

MAN: Goodnight, Judge. Sure. Goodnight.

(DOOR OPENS)

(DOOR CLOSES)

I don't really want a nightcap.

Oh...

I'm holding $19,000 worth of these already.

This'll almost make it an even 20.

I won't carry anyone for that much.

Not even a guy who's the older brother I never had.

Just till Friday, Les. Monday at the latest.

Look...

If you really need 20 or 30,000

all you have to do is ask.

But cards are my living

and if people know I'm holding your markers,

they might get the idea I've gone soft.

Easy.

And I can't afford that.

I understand, Les. I do.

I understand. No, you don't.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

This afternoon, I got a call from Bobby Birdsong,

our mutual bookie.

Bobby's carrying you for 25 and is so worried,

he offered to sell it to me for 15.

I said, "No, thanks."

Friday, Les. Everything'll be fine by Friday.

Don't worry. Beachie...

After Friday...

Somebody else will do the worrying.

Understand?

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

(SIREN BLARING IN DISTANCE)

(PHONE BEEPING)

WOMAN: (ON PHONE) 9331.

I'm in.

One across, four letters. Pan's beginning to leak.

Right.

(CALL DISCONNECTS)

(SONG PLAYING) ♪ Your intelligence is sexy

♪ I want to know What you got to say

♪ I want to know What you got to say

♪ I want to know What you got to say

(SIGHS)

♪ I can tell you Taste like the sky

♪ 'Cause you look like rain

Pan's beginning to leak.

♪ You look like rain You look like rain

♪ You look like rain ♪

Drip.

(BUZZER RINGS)

(BUZZER CONTINUES RINGING)

NELSON: What?

It's "Who." Not "What."

Margaret Wells, that's who.

(DOOR BUZZES)

Hi.

Jesus...

You do drink scotch, don't you?

Who'd you plan to buy with it?

A judge.

What do you got here? About 25,000?

Thirty. Hmm.

Want water? Straight, please.

So...

What kind of judge?

Small Claims Court, Traffic Court, what?

State Supreme Court.

State Supreme Court?

Well, the 30,000 buys us an introduction.

His full price is one million.

Can we sit down? Mmm...

There aren't any chairs.

Bed's fine.

(SIREN BLARING IN DISTANCE)

He's a degenerate gambler, this judge.

Let me guess...

We're gonna buy up his markers.

You are quick, aren't you? Mmm.

The markers are the stick.

Then comes the carrot.

That would be...

The one million. Mmm.

I like details.

You want them now?

Later.

Well?

I need back-up.

How about Tod Stapp?

Yeah, he'll do.

The risk doesn't seem to bother you much.

If any.

It's what I do. It's what I'm good at.

Besides, I learned the lesson a long time ago

that maximum effort means minimum risk.

How about the lesson, "Small risk means small profit"?

Big risk...

Big profit.

Never heard of it.

The agency was always very big on risk,

but not very big on profit.

How about half the tool shed?

Who'd own the other half?

Someone willing to share the risk.

And Grimes?

So Grimes goes.

Say it.

Grimes goes.

Well?

I'll think about it.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

(PHONES RINGING)

MAN: Yeah, they're not wired, they're not carrying.

I can swear to that.

They swear they're not cops. But who knows?

They got names?

Not so as you'd notice.

I'll call them, "Mr. X" and "Mr. Y".

Yes.

You got business with me?

Mr. X? Y?

Private business.

(INDISTINCT CHATTERING CONTINUES)

Ah! Good for my back.

Well?

We buy bad paper, Mr. Birdsong.

Do you now?

That's interesting.

Any particular kind?

Old debts, outstanding notes.

For instance, say someone owed you...

Oh, say, 25,000.

That you'd almost given up on ever collecting.

We might offer you 15 for it.

You want Judge Beach's paper, don't you?

I don't believe we know anyone named Beach, but, um...

If he has paper out and we buy it, we probably would get to know him.

Probably.

Cash?

Gentlemen,

have a cup of tea.

Hello, Mr. Goodman, nice to see you.

(INDISTINCT CHATTER) (SOFT PIANO MUSIC PLAYING)

That him?

That's him.

(NELSON SPEAKING FRENCH)

You looking well!

You mind if we join you?

Before you get upset, take a look inside.

I take it you two are Mr. X and Mr. Y.

He talked to Birdsong.

How much?

Twelve and a half.

For 20,000 worth of bad checks?

It occurs to me, gentlemen,

that you're not really in the bad paper-buying business.

It occurs to me that you are into something

much more profitable.

In which I might...

Let's say, participate.

Do you like pain?

If you do...

(WHIMPERING)

I can paralyze your elbow.

(GASPING)

And the pain is so excruciating

that you won't be able to play bridge...

For a week, maybe two.

(BREATHING HEAVILY) Now, Les...

Promise me that you won't butt into our business

and maybe you and I can be...

Friends.

Maybe even...

Real good friends.

Okay?

Get your hand off me.

(PIANO MUSIC CONTINUES)

Tell us...

About the judge's extracurricular love life, if anything.

He's my oldest friend.

How old? LES: My oldest.

We grew up next door to each other.

He was like an elder brother to me.

So any information about his "extracurricular love life,"

as you call it...

Will cost you another 1,000.

Pay him. Look in your napkin, Les.

How did you...

Her name's Julie Ames.

Do you know the Queen Charlotte?

Apartment 1402.

(SCOFFS)

His oldest friend, huh?

I have that privilege.

Call me sometime.

We can discuss friends.

Old... And new.

I may do that.

Are you a fisherman, Mr. Crowe?

No.

It's a solitary pursuit, essentially.

But one that provides time for meditation and reflection.

I was just pondering on how long the world will last.

The world as we know it, of course.

Mmm.

I don't give it much more than 20 or 30 years.

By then, clean air, clean water, clean rain and productive soil...

Will all be memories.

If, indeed, there are any memories.

Which brings us, in a rather circuitous fashion,

to Cross Creek versus our esteemed client, Curl Industries.

Cross Creek, of course,

is the birthplace of the "Cross Creek babies."

You must've seen them on television.

The ones with leukemia, no fingers, one eye, et cetera.

Exactly.

The hamlet of Cross Creek...

Claims that toxic waste, dumped into their water supply

by our client, caused the deformities.

Do you believe that?

The lower courts did.

Stuck your client with a $25 million tag.

Well, true, but now it's up to the State Supreme Court

to decide the right or wrong of that judgment.

And here we are, just the three of us,

about to suborn a Supreme Court Justice

into voting against crippled kids.

Does that give you pause, Mr. Crowe?

Sure. GRIMES: But...

No "buts".

The two of you wanted to know

if it gives me pause. I said yes.

It's a felony.

If I get caught, I go to jail.

That gives me pause, all right?

If it didn't, you wouldn't have me working for you.

What about the deformed tots?

I suppose I think of them as often as they think of me.

You'll find $1 million in that bag.

Spend it wisely, Mr. Crowe.

Okay. Anything else?

That time in Jordan, in Amman...

Did the Iraqi colonel really get his gold?

He got it.

I do hope so.

He is a nasty piece of work.

Isn't he, though?

(FLIPPING BILLS)

(HORN BLARING)

You really expect me to sign this?

Sure.

I mean, you just turned over all this money to the federal government,

for which we're extremely grateful.

Now we're gonna turn it back over to you.

And if we're gonna do that, we're gonna need a receipt.

Because bearing in mind that Iraqi colonel,

you might be on the next flight to Rio.

Uh-uh! Both copies, slick.

It was worth a try.

So, what about Maggie and her plan for a palace coup?

Was I right or was I right?

You were half right, as usual.

She won't give me the details till after I fix the judge.

What kind of pitch did she make?

Half for me, half for her.

Well, now...

What does "Well, now" mean?

It means you go the distance with her,

provided you're still interested

in scrambling back into our grace and favor

and staying out of jail?

This is the last fucking time, okay, Smitty?

The very last time! You guys have had me

on every shit detail you can think of for two years

'cause of some fucking Iraqi colonel.

He got his gold! You know goddamn well he did.

Uh-huh, well, he says he didn't.

After this, I want out.

I want all the way out.

And all we want, Nellie, is to nail Vic Grimes on bribery

and acquire his tool shed.

So, our aims here are identical.

I mean, we get our very own,

private, self-supporting special operations boutique,

at no cost to the taxpayer, I might add.

And you get... Out.

Where are we, Al?

Two blocks from the Queen Charlotte.

You want out here?

Zigzag a couple more blocks, Al.

You got it.

You, uh, still think somebody's always on your tail, Nellie?

Not always. Just sometimes.

Now and then, you understand?

Thanks, Al. Have fun.

(ELEVATOR DINGS)

(ELEVATOR DINGS)

Excuse me. Yes?

Are these yours?

Who the hell are you?

Someone you're gonna have to talk to, Judge.

I thought you'd rather do it here than at home or in your chambers.

You're trying to collect on those?

You're wasting your time.

Can we talk now?

(TV PLAYING INDISTINCTLY)

(APPLAUSE ON TV)

WOMAN: Beachie?

Don't I get introduced?

Julie, I think it might be best if you went for a walk.

Oh. Well, I don't think so.

This is my house.

She stays.

What's going on, Beachie?

A bribe is being offered.

If I were drowning,

and somebody threw me a life preserver,

I wouldn't exactly call that a bribe.

You're drowning in debt, Your Honor.

Another week or so, it'll be, "Glub, glub, goodbye."

Get out.

There's a million dollars on that table, tax free.

Leave.

Please.

Birdsong.

I bought your paper from Bobby Birdsong.

I also know a guy at the news who, uh...

Okay, there's no need to go into that,

but it would make a hell of a story.

Supreme Court judge in hock to bookie?

What case?

Cross creek v. Curl Industries.

You go against the crippled kids.

Well, the rumor is that the rest of the court

is split three to three.

If you make if four to three, in favor of Curl,

you're home free and semi-rich.

Yes or no?

All right.

Yes.

NELSON: I need a receipt.

She signs, too, as a witness.

I'm not signing anything.

Sign it, Julie.

What earthly difference can it make?

You must have very suspicious employers, Mr...

Whatever it is you call yourself.

Mr. X.

And this...

Is just an insurance against your voting the wrong way.

And then saying, "Money? What money?"

Get out of my house.

Sure.

(TV PLAYING INDISTINCTLY)

(LAUGHING ON TV)

MARGARET: Can you make me one?

Sure.

You know what this means?

It means that we have a lock on the judge.

In the trade it's called, "A forever lock".

Which means we can sell his vote over and over again,

and it won't cost us a dime.

Great.

You don't seem too impressed.

We're not scrupled, surely, Mr. Crowe?

Scruples? No.

Just a growing concern over the rosy future you painted for us.

You know, the one where all I do is stand in front of the big window,

my back to the room.

While the smooth guys in suits

stream in and out, whispering in my ear.

All I got to do is keep my eyes on the distant horizon

and nod yes or no, you remember that?

And a rough translation of that might be...

What do we do about Vic Grimes?

What, when, and how.

"What" is simple.

We kill him.

"How?"

Cleverly enough to avoid suspicion.

And that just leaves "When".

Have you ever killed anyone?

Have you?

Not cleverly.

That's just another word for "fancy."

Cyanide in toothpaste. Crap like that.

See, to do it right...

You work up close.

Close enough to hear 'em beg.

See 'em bleed.

And smell it when they crap in their pants.

(PANTING)

Could you do it?

Could you kill him?

Me?

Just me. Okay.

Us.

Bien sûr. Sure. We can do it.

(PANTING)

Does Grimes trust you?

As much as he trusts anyone.

Ever slept with him?

Why?

Could you?

Could you?

Probably. That's how we'll do it.

Sneak in his bed... And kill him.

(SCREAMING)

(SHOUTING)

(DOOR CLOSING)

(CLICKING SWITCH ON AND OFF)

Who invited you?

I got curious.

Guess the judge decided he could use

that million dollars after all, huh?

Really?

I figured he would.

But, what I can't figure out is...

Well, is you brother Crowe.

Why?

At 4:41 this afternoon,

you got out of a large green van,

license number AAB 8990.

Now, Motor Vehicles says it's a Hertz rental.

Now, Hertz says...

It went out on an Amex card

belonging to one Norman Y. Harris.

If memory serves me...

Norman Y. Harris

is the agency work name of William B. Smithfield.

The one he used down in El Salvador.

When I was there.

Old Smitty, the agency's all-time champion survivor.

Must be getting careless.

NELSON: Oh, I don't know.

Maybe he was in a hurry.

Here you are...

Working for Vic Grimes,

but still messing around with the agency.

What kind of hammer are they holding over you?

Ten years?

Fifteen?

Something like that.

My first reaction...

Was to race back to the tool shed

before my shirt tail hit my fanny,

score some points with Grimes,

tell him all about you and Old Bill.

But you didn't.

Not yet.

(SPEAKING FRENCH)

I smell money.

Not upper-middle class folks' money.

I mean rich folks' money.

I want some of it. No...

I tell a lie.

I want a lot of it.

It's a takeover.

Keep talking.

Well, the agency wants their own

off-the-books, self-financed,

black operations boutique.

Going concern with no chance of trace-back,

someone who'll handle the shit work, the snatches, the...

Blackmail.

Who knows. Maybe even the wet work.

In short...

The agency wants the tool shed.

Who'll head it up?

Margaret and I will run it.

You.

Hmm...

I guess that makes you number three.

What about Grimes?

What do you care?

(SIGHS)

You're right.

What do I care?

MARGARET: And not only did Judge Beach

sign the receipt for $1 million,

but Julie Ames also signed it, as a witness.

How very neat and tidy.

You have the receipt, of course?

Of course.

You're absolutely certain it's the original, and not a photocopy?

What's bothering you, Vic?

I asked what was bothering you.

Mr. Crowe.

It's all gone so smoothly.

Here we have a judge safely bribed,

we even have a receipt to prove it.

It's Friday, and on Monday a Supreme Court decision

is going to be handed down in favor of our principal client.

Absolute perfection.

Something I long ago learned to distrust.

Okay.

What else?

Ruth giving you a hard time at home?

As a matter of fact, my wife is spending the week

with her sister in Minneapolis.

I'll be alone for the weekend at the cabin.

Oh.

Like me to come along? Yes.

I was hoping you'd be free.

And maybe this time,

I can even teach you a little something about fishing.

I don't want to fish.

I want to fuck.

Now...

There's nothing I can teach you in that department.

"Thank you," she simpered. (UNZIPS ZIPPER)

(KNOCKING AT DOOR)

(EXHALES) Well, well. Toddy, dearest.

Al.

This should be interesting.

What the fuck's he doing here? Cut himself in.

Sorry, Stapp. No fagots allowed.

I mean, you are still a fagot, aren't you?

Of course, Bill.

NELSON: Well, I guess you have to go see Grimes,

give him a full report...

Tell him all about the plans... Just a minute.

Just a goddamn minute.

What did he do, spill his guts?

Just the usual pillow talk. Answer the goddamn question.

Look, Smitty...

You got dumb-fuck careless.

You rented that van under your old work name.

After that, I did my adds and takeaways

and came up with an interesting total.

Either you cut me in...

Or I go see what Grimes has to offer.

See what I mean, Al?

These faggots'll fuck you over every time.

Jesus, cut him in, Smitty. You don't have any choice.

Okay. You work with Crowe.

Swell. Now that that's settled, what's next?

Well, next we're gonna create a little crisis in the tool shed by...

Causing Vic Grimes to lose his bread-and-butter client.

Curl Industries.

How? SMITTY: Well, you turned Judge Beach around before.

Just turn him back around.

Make sure he votes against Curl, and...

For Cross Creek.

The crippled kids.

You like it?

Oh, very much. SMITTY: Then do it.

And take her with you.

Bill. Al.

Well?

We do nothing. The judge stays fixed.

How?

The one million for Curl industries.

The bribe money?

Yeah, Smitty was afraid I'd skip to Rio with it,

so he made me give it to him.

Before he gave it back, he made me sign two receipts.

Scotch and soda.

Two.

Even Smitty wasn't dumb enough to let you keep a copy.

No, but...

Better than that.

I did get it on tape.

Sounds to me like evidence

that federal money bribed a judge.

Exactly. It also means that even

if Smitty's got his fist wrapped around me,

I got mine wrapped around him.

It's a wash.

Might work.

Depending on what my cut is.

Well, your cut stays the same.

Money, power.

The love of someone very beautiful.

(DOOR SHUTS)

Oh, Beachie.

(CHUCKLING)

Wait till you see what else I bought.

(LAUGHING)

Julie, we have to talk first.

About what?

About... This.

The Bahamas?

Oh, my God.

Oh, Beachie, how I wanted to go there.

When do we leave?

You leave this afternoon. What?

You go by yourself.

Now... Please, just listen to me.

I want you to...

Take the money.

And open an account in your name.

With this man, at this bank.

In my name? Mmm-hmm.

That means you're leaving her.

Yes.

When?

Very soon.

So, I just wait for you there?

In Nassau. In Nassau. (CHUCKLING)

You trust me that much, huh? Oh, Julie.

It's not about trust.

It's about love.

Beachie...

I love you so much.

And I'm gonna make you so fucking happy.

You already have.

(FOOTSTEPS)

(DOOR SHUTS)

How say you now, gentlemen?

(SHRIEKS)

(GUNFIRE)

You know why I hate Grimes?

Probably because you owe him too much.

Your only choices are hate and gratitude.

Who wants to be grateful?

Exactly.

That's good,

'cause when this starts...

(PHONE RINGS)

Yeah, it's Margaret.

Yeah. Just give me 30 minutes. All right, bye.

That was Grimes.

It seems Judge Beach shot and killed himself half an hour ago.

Grimes and I have to go see Curl.

Calm him down, reassure him.

After that, we'll go up to the cabin for the weekend.

To fish and fuck.

We do this tomorrow, right?

Yeah, all right. Tomorrow.

(COCKING GUN)

(STEEL DRUM BAND PLAYING)

(DIAL TONE)

JULIE: Beachie?

What kind of detective?

Homicide. Can I see that?

Who is this?

(STEEL DRUM BAND CONTINUES)

(GASPS)

(SCREAMS)

(SOBS)

They're going to arrest me and put me in prison!

There's no way I'll be able to survive that.

There's no way I could get out...

Shut up, Walter.

He's dead, you know. MARGARET: I know.

Judge Beach killed himself. MARGARET: I know that.

Now it will all come out.

They'll find out about it.

MARGARET: You want me to try? Go ahead.

You can't... Walter.

Walter, Walter, I'm going to talk to you very simply.

And slowly.

And I want you to concentrate.

Okay? Now, sit down.

The court decision

is still going to be handed down on Monday.

Do you understand?

Okay. Now that means, it's already been voted.

Already written. Do you follow that?

It means you've won, Walter.

It means the court made its decision before Beach died.

And that decision will stand.

We've won?

Of course we won.

But I don't understand.

Why would he kill himself

after we gave him all that money?

Maybe he had principles, Walter.

Principles?

Maybe he had cancer or...

Cancer of the esophagus.

Oh, yes, of course.

People often do that, when they have cancer.

How do you know it was the esophagus?

Well, we don't know. We don't know for sure.

If you don't know that, how do you know which way he voted then?

Walter, look at us.

You look like something out of LL Bean.

We're going fishing.

Do you think if anything was wrong, we'd be going fishing?

Back to bed, Walter.

Nice rhythm, now.

See?

Mmm-hmm, my turn? Yeah, your turn.

Let me see you work that rod, woman.

You know, Julie Ames is gonna be a problem for us.

MARGARET: I'll get Stapp to take care of her.

GRIMES: That's my girl. One more time.

(WHOOSHING OF FISHING ROD)

MARGARET: What are the numbers? GRIMES: 11 to one.

(MARGARET CHUCKLING) M12 is right above your head...

MARGARET: Do they have any name? 11 is a little... Yeah.

11 is slightly behind 12... One o'clock.

You're going from 11 o'clock to 1 o'clock.

12 is directly above your head,

11 is slightly behind it.

Shorter stroke when you come up.

Tighter. Don't go so far back. Keep your wrists straight.

MARGARET: Oh, that's not so bad. What? Isn't it?

GRIMES: Stop. Stop.

Had enough? (LAUGHS) Enough fishing. Yes.

(TAPPING) (MOANING)

(HEAVY BREATHING)

(OPERA MUSIC PLAYING)

(PANTING)

(GROANING)

(MOANING)

(UNLATCHES DOOR)

(HEAVY BREATHING)

(RATTLING) Wait.

Shh.

Wait there.

(CLOCK TICKING)

(CREAKING)

(SHOUTS) Behind you, Vic!

(GUNFIRE) (GRIMES GASPS)

(GUN COCKING)

(THUD)

Like I said...

You gotta work up close.

(CRYING) You know what he said?

(SIGHING) No, what?

(CHUCKLES)

What?

Oh...

(WHISPERS) He said he loved me.

So what?

So do I.

(SCREAMS)

(GRUNTS)

(GROANS)

Okay. Okay.

(PANTING) You okay?

(MOANS)

(GROANS)

(SIGHING)

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

WOMAN: (OVER INTERCOM) Dr. Kroll, 2023...

Dr. Kroll, 2023.

Why does the nurse have to push you?

It's just a regulation. She'll be here in a minute.

(PHONE RINGS)

(PHONE RINGING)

TOD: Ms. Wells' room.

Hi, Jane, what's up?

All right.

I'll tell her.

We're fucked.

Jane says the State Supreme Court

just upheld the $25 million judgment against Curl.

TOD: The vote was four to three.

Get the door.

(MOANING)

Get him up.

You like pain?

TOD: Then I suggest you get up,

or you'll feel pain like you've never felt before.

Here.

No, no. Don't touch me.

Grown men don't touch each other.

What happened?

Oh, I had an accident.

What do you want from me, Margaret? Grimes is dead.

That lying judge swindled me out of my money,

and then killed himself out of spite.

That's over, gone, finished.

What I want, is to keep you out of jail, Walter.

WALTER: Jail? What for?

Bribery.

The money that bribed the judge...

Your money... Is still out there.

Somebody has it.

Somebody who knows the whole story.

And can either blow the whistle on you or...

Blackmail me. Hmm.

WALTER: Well you've got to stop him, Margaret.

You've got to fix it, so he doesn't do that... MARGARET: It's not a him.

It's a her. Julie Ames. Judge Beach's girlfriend.

Well then, stop her, God damn it.

You mean kill her, Mr. Curl?

Who's this person?

The man who can stop Julie Ames.

Well then, do it!

We have to settle on a price first.

Can I help you, sir? Apartment 931.

(SOFT ROCK MUSIC)

♪ There's one thing I know

♪ I never felt this way

(DOORBELL RINGING)

♪ Until I met you

♪ I'll give you five good reasons more

♪ And two

♪ You're so good

♪ When it comes down to understanding...

Hello, Les. Come on in.

Thank you.

Thank you for coming so early. Not at all.

I thought we'd talk while I finish shaving.

Is that all right with you? How intimate.

♪ You're the one I pray for

♪ In the night ♪

And how cozy. Thank you.

The anti-couch potato room, I take it?

Something like that.

Do you have it just about the way you want it?

Just about.

NELSON: You said on the phone you had some information about...

Judge Beach's girlfriend. What was her name?

Julie Ames?

She's traveling in Europe.

Mmm-hmm. Working out her grief, I expect.

I received a card from her only yesterday.

Showed her in Brussels, of all places...

In front of the statue of that perpetually pissing little boy.

(CHUCKLING)

Care to see it?

Sure. Why not?

May I keep it?

Whatever for?

I think she's cute.

For your trouble.

No trouble at all.

(PHONE RINGING)

RECEPTIONIST: Ms. Wells' office.

One moment.

She's expecting you.

(DOOR OPENS)

(DOOR SHUTS)

Sorry I'm late.

It's not a problem. We only have one item to discuss.

Make it two.

All right, two.

I spoke to homicide today.

And? They still have no leads,

except for my description of the killer.

Mid 40's, stocky, thinning hair.

That's too bad.

My turn? Mmm.

Miss Julie Ames, of Brussels.

Where'd you get this?

I bought it from one of my sources.

What's she doing in Brussels?

Working out her grief, I'm told.

Too scared to come home.

Probably too scared to be of any problem to us.

Brussels today, Berlin tomorrow,

Rome on Friday if the weather's nice, who knows?

Find her.

Find her, then kill her.

You really get off on saying that, don't you?

If you won't do it, I'll find somebody who will.

Why don't we talk about that tonight?

I'm busy tonight.

Busy?

What does "busy" mean?

"Busy" means I'm entertaining clients.

"Busy" means I'm not somebody's bimbo in waiting.

You're right, Margaret. You're no bimbo.

You're top shelf.

The girl of my dreams.

Because if you're not...

Then nothing we've done makes any fucking sense, does it?

Are you finished?

I have a final prediction.

You and I are forever.

I decide when forever ends.

Get out.

It's Les. Shall I come up?

Did you get what I wanted?

Yes, but I'm afraid it's a bit expensive.

Well, golly, Les. What a surprise.

How much?

Two thousand.

Bullshit.

Fifteen hundred?

Sorry, Julie.

(SIGHING)

Is it loaded?

Of course.

But I'd better show you how to use it.

This is the safety.

This is on...

(CLICKS) This is off.

When the safety's on, it won't fire.

This is the slide.

To fire the first time, you pull it back like this.

That puts a round up the spout.

Is there one in there now? Yes.

Then, I'm all set.

I just make sure the safety's off.

Point it...

And start pulling the trigger, right?

Right.

How many times can I pull it?

Seven.

But it's a semiautomatic,

so it ejects its shell casings.

Once you fire it, I suggest you gather up the casings.

Neatness counts. (GUN CLANGS)

And then, too, the police set great store...

(GUN COCKS) By shell casings.

Fifteen hundred, right?

The weapon is fifteen hundred.

But, it won't do you much good without the other item.

All right, Les.

Who is he, and where do I find him?

I did say cash, didn't I?

(SCOFFS)

Forgetful me.

(CHUCKLES)

Nelson Crowe. He's Mr. X?

Yes.

(DOOR OPENS)

RECEPTIONIST: Um...

I couldn't stop them.

It's all right.

Go on, get out.

My God, you look flush, Maggie.

What do you want, Smitty?

Remember Al, here?

How are you, Maggie?

(SOFTLY) Well...

I repeat my question, what do you want?

Oh, we want it all, Maggie. Everything.

See, we got you cold on bribery and conspiracy.

You remember a little ol' Tennessee gal named...

Julie Ames?

Well, when we find her and...

You can bet your ass we will,

she's gonna be our key witness.

And if that's not good enough,

then there's the sad death of Vic Grimes.

Poor old Vic.

We might have to bring the fee-bees in on that one,

seeing as how Vic had his civil rights somewhat violated.

(SMITTY CHUCKLING)

Make your point.

Gee, I thought I made my point.

We take over. And you run it,

the way we want it run, and where we want it run.

It'll be just like old times, Maggie. You'll be working for us.

Of course, if you don't want to do that, you can do...

Fifteen to twenty.

Maybe even life.

(SIGHS)

Anything else?

Anything else, Al?

Personnel.

SMITTY: Personnel.

There will be some personnel changes.

I'll come on as Chairman of the Board.

And you can be the president.

But Nellie Crowe... (SIGHS)

Nellie's gonna have to be our first casualty.

I don't know, maybe we can put a little plaque up

to him or something.

But I'm gonna leave all that up to you, Maggie.

You understand?

Mmm.

We're in sort of a hurry on the Crowe thing.

SMITTY: So now Al and I are gonna take a little tour and then...

I'll come back and maybe you can...

Introduce us to everybody.

Love it.

(DOOR CLOSES)

(DOOR CLOSES) Get my car up.

Right away.

NELSON: (OVER RECORDER) You really expect me to sign these?

SMITTY: (OVER RECORDER) Sure.

NELSON: I mean, you just turned all this money

over to the federal government...

SMITTY: For which we're extremely grateful.

We're now gonna turn it back over to you.

If we're gonna do that, we need a receipt.

(BEEPING)

JULIE: Excuse me?

Could you hold that for me, please?

Thank you.

(ELEVATOR DINGS)

MARGARET: Floor?

Seven, please.

(DOOR CLOSES)

What a lovely suit.

Paris?

Milan. Oh.

(ELEVATOR BELL DINGS)

(ELEVATOR DOOR OPENING)

(CHUCKLES)

TOD: (OVER RECORDER) After that, I did my adds and takeaways

and came up with an interesting total.

Now, either you cut me in (DOORBELL RINGS)

or I go to see what Grimes... (RECORDER STOPS)

You're about to have a visitor.

Ms. Julie Ames.

Of Brussels.

(DOORBELL)

(SIGHS)

Remember me?

Sure, um...

Julie Ames?

Come on in.

You alone? I'm not disturbing anything?

All alone.

Hey!

Now, that's pretty neat.

If you want to watch the soaps,

you got to row an hour or do 30 miles on the bike, huh?

You're not really Mr. X after all, are you?

Turns out you're Nelson Crowe.

And used to be a secret agent man.

(INHALES) You been busy.

I got curious.

After Beachie, and all.

You're looking well, Julie.

Very prosperous.

I'm still a little sad...

About Beachie.

Hmm.

I'm sorry.

I know it must've come as quite a shock to you.

Can I offer you a drink?

Do I get to sit on the bike?

We'll have it in the kitchen.

That's where my daddy did all his serious drinking.

In the kitchen.

JULIE: So, that's what you do for a living, huh?

Fuck up other people's lives.

That's not exactly how I like to think

of my job description, Julie.

(JULIE SCOFFS) It's not, huh?

What about Beachie?

He was no saint... But you might as well have

put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger.

See, Beachie was all wrong for that kind of scene.

Somebody should've stepped in.

Done something.

And, I've about decided...

That somebody should've been me.

(GASPS)

And you want someone to pay, is that it, Miss Ames?

Yeah, that's it.

I presume you brought a weapon of some kind?

Who the fuck is she?

She's my boss.

So, why is she pointing a gun at you?

I don't know, Julie, why don't you ask her?

Well, boss lady?

You did bring a gun, didn't you?

Yeah.

For protection.

Okay, then take it out.

And aim it at Mr. Crowe, please.

JULIE: Why?

So you can shoot him...

With safety.

Do it!

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

So, he works for you, huh?

Not anymore.

But she told you what to do, right?

You bet, Julie.

Every single step.

(GUNFIRE)

(GLASS SHATTERING)

(GUNFIRE)

(BULLET CASING TINGS)

(EXHALES FAINTLY)

(CHOKES)

SMITTY: (OVER RECORDER) Okay. You work with Crowe.

NELSON: (OVER RECORDER) Swell. Now that that's settled, what's next?

SMITTY: Well, next we're gonna create a little crisis in the tool shed

by causing Vic Grimes to lose his bread-and-butter client.

Curl Industries. NELSON: How?

SMITTY: Well you've turned Judge Beach around before.

Just turn him back around.

Make sure he votes against Curl, and...

For Cross Creek.

The crippled kids.

You like it?

NELSON: Oh, very much. SMITTY: Then do it.

(DOOR OPENS)

(DOOR CLOSES)

(POLICE SIREN WAILING)

The US Attorney's office is almost across the street.

If you send this Airborne Express,

it'll have to go all the way to Ohio and back.

Just send it.