The Limey Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the The Limey script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Steven Soderbergh movie starring Terence Stamp.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of The Limey. I know, I know, I still need to get the cast names in there and I'll be eternally tweaking it, so if you have any corrections, feel free to drop me a line. You won't hurt my feelings. Honest.

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The Limey Script


  

  

 

                   

Tell me,



 

                   

Tell me,



 

                   

Tell me about Jenny,



 

                   

Edward Roel?



 

                   

Eduardo Roel.



 

                   

Edward Roel?



 

                   

Eduardo Roel.



 

                   

You're home then.



 

                   

My name's Wilson.



  

                   

Wilson?



  

                   

You wrote me about my daughter.



  

                   

Oh, uh, yeah.

Come in.



  

                   

Who's done it then?



  

                   

Snuffed her?



  

                   

What are you talking about?



  

                   

I sent you the newspaper clipping.

Told you all I know.



  

                   

I never said anything

about nobody being snuffed.



  

                   

Look...



  

                   

There was an investigation.

The car was totalled. Jenny was...



  

                   

Her neck broke, they said,,,



  

                   

on impact.



  

                   

So she wouldn't have felt the fire,

Those streets up them hills,,,



  

                   

You got to be careful. You got

to keep your eyes on the ball.



  

                   

Two o'clock in the morning, it's

dark, your mind's a little agitated.



  

                   

You're driving a little too fast...



  

                   

Those curves don't kid around.



  

                   

Could've happened to anybody, Jenny

wasn't reckless, She'd drink,



  

                   

have a little pot, but that was it.



  

                   

No, not my girl,



  

                   

Self-control she had.



  

                   

It was a point of pride.



  

                   

Where'd she get it, this grass,



  

                   

- or whatever?

- No, no, no.



  

                   

I'm no drug dealer, man.

What do you think?



  

                   

I think you didn't get that ink

in the Navy,



  

                   

doing your national service,



  

                   

Hey, I already told you, man,

Corcoran, you know?



  

                   

You know what that is?

State prison.



  

                   

I did my time. My sister, her man

is doing   years in Chino.



  

                   

I work. I put my life together.

I put all that shit behind me.



  

                   

Five years in the joint.

That's it.



  

                   

I just got out myself, didn't I?



  

                   

This bloke she was bunked up with,,,



  

                   

- Terry what's-it,,,

- Terry Valentine,



  

                   

- What's he got to say for himself?

- I don't know,



  

                   

They had a fight, she drove away,

she was upset.



  

                   

A few weeks before Jenny died,



  

                   

she had me drive her downtown,



  

                   

She said she wanted to talk

to her boyfriend, Valentine.



  

                   

But I think

she was looking for him,



  

                   

- Catch him with another bird?

- That's what I thought.



  

                   

But we didn't go to the hotel

We went someplace else,



  

                   

Whereabouts?



  

                   

Some bad place,

Bad people,



  

                   

Some guy unloading trucks,

Some kind of deal going on,



  

                   

Now, I don't know

and I don't care, okay?



  

                   

It could have been

fava beans to Eskimos,



  

                   

- Did Jenny know?

- Valentine wasn't there,



  

                   

so if he or she were involved,

who's to say?



  

                   

But I'll tell you,



  

                   

Jenny stood in front of those guys,



  

                   

eyeballing them,



  

                   

I felt like she was covering my ass,



  

                   

I can't believe that.

Really?



  

                   

What did she say?



  

                   

Hang on.



  

                   

May I help you?



  

                   

Can't be too careful nowadays.

Lot of tea leaves about.



  

                   

- You know what I mean?

- Excuse me?



  

                   

Tea leaves - thieves.

Terry Valentine. Do you know him?



  

                   

And... who are you?



  

                   

Wilson. My name's Wilson.



  

                   

Wilson.



  

                   

- I never heard of you.

- I'm not that well-known.



  

                   

Except around certain police nicks.



  

                   

- Police what?

- Who me? No, can't be bothered.



  

                   

Hey! Who the fuck are you?

How did you get in here?



  

                   

A little bird told me you and Terry

Valentine have business dealings.



  

                   

- I don't know a Terry Valentine.

- Don't you?



  

                   

Take a walk, pal.

You're making a big mistake.



  

                   

Go on, get the hell out.



  

                   

What have you been up to, pal?



  

                   

What have you been doing, son?

You got to buck your ideas up.



  

                   

What have you been doing?



  

                   

Jennifer Wilson.



  

                   

That name mean anything to you?



  

                   

Hey, what's the deal here?



  

                   

Hey, whoa, hold on!



  

                   

What the hell? Who is this guy?



  

                   

The only reason you're not dead

is I want to know who you are.



  

                   

Jennifer Wilson was my daughter.



  

                   

- Who the fuck is...

- Was she that chick that came here?



  

                   

Yeah, talked the same way

as this cocksucker.



  

                   

Terry Valentine is a friend of mine.



  

                   

And I don't talk about my friends

with strangers. Your cunt daughter



  

                   

come up here

sticking her tits in my face.



  

                   

Who am I?

How do I know Terry?



  

                   

What's the nature

of our business together?



  

                   

I admire Terry for

a lot of things, but I got to say,



   

                   

he let himself get



   

                   

royally pussy-whipped

by that fucking bitch.



   

                   

Know what I would like

to have done to her?



   

                   

What I would like to have done?



   

                   

Then after I got done...



   

                   

I bet she would've liked that.



   

                   

Too bas she took

a nose dive off that cliff.



   

                   

Probably dried her all up.



   

                   

I got a gun right here!



   

                   

Get him out of here.



   

                   

- You want me to call an ambulance?

- No!



   

                   

I'm gonna call Avery.



   

                   

Go, man!

Just get out of here!



   

                   

Come back here again, Pop,

and we'll kill you.



   

                   

This is private property.



   

                   

We will shoot you, fuck-o.

Get it?



   

                   

Old fart comes here

with his big dangerous gun.



   

                   

We're quaking! We're quaking!



   

                   

Yeah. Shit!



   

                   

Come on back and visit and trespass.

We look forward to it, asshole.



   

                   

Stupid English fuck!



   

                   

You tell him!



   

                   

You tell him I'm coming!



   

                   

Tell him I'm fucking coming!



   

                   

"Tell 'em I'm coming?"



   

                   

"Tell him I'm coming,"



   

                   

Who?



   

                   

Nobody knows,



   

                   

Adhara.

I remember telling your parents,



   

                   

"If you want a name, you can't

go wrong with a constellation."



   

                   

Well, I used to hate it.

Now I like it.



   

                   

It could be worse.

They could have called you



   

                   

Reticulum... Pleiades.



   

                   

God, you're beautiful.



   

                   

Is there anything

in this world you want or need?



   

                   

I want to know why you need

that scary man in your house.



   

                   

Gordon's been with me for years.

He's not as tough as he looks.



   

                   

- Then what good is he?

- Heard of loyalty?



   

                   

Yeah. I'm loyal

to things that make me happy.



   

                   

Oh, am I a thing?



   

                   

You're certainly not a person.



   

                   

- I'm not?

- No.



   

                   

You're not specific enough to be a

person. You're more like a vibe.



   

                   

I'm glad we're having this chat.

Come here.



   

                   

Get out of the pool.



   

                   

Terry!



   

                   

I don't know

what transpired exactly,



   

                   

Our friends downtown,

someone took them out.



   

                   

What the fuck does

"took them out" mean?



   

                   

It used to mean a gangland slaying.

Maybe it still does.



   

                   

Well, who?



   

                   

Blacks?



   

                   

Blacks? No, Terry,

it's not their style.



   

                   

From what I gather,

it was a Ione gunman.



   

                   

You sound like the   o'clock news,



   

                   

Why are you telling me this shit?



   

                   

I don't want you to hear about it

and then freak out.



   

                   

Fuck you, Jim.

I don't freak out anymore.



   

                   

It was probably nothing.



   

                   

That's usually what senseless mayhem

comes down to, Bad loan,



   

                   

bad judgement, bad faith,



   

                   

These were bad people,

involved with worse people.



   

                   

Cops got a lot of leads, so...



   

                   

As long as nobody

can connect anything to me.



   

                   

No one will connect anything to you.



   

                   

That was a one-off deal,

You hopped on, you hopped off,



   

                   

Anything else, I would have

had you walk away.



   

                   

You never saw them again, right?



   

                   

Are you crazy?



   

                   

They're your friends, not mine,



   

                   

What?



   

                   

Your "clients"?



   

                   

Let's say I befriended them

when you needed them.



   

                   

Well, the cops. I mean...



   

                   

Are they satisfied with

this gangland shit or what?



   

                   

The cops don't get satisfied.

They get placated.



   

                   

They're talking to the kid who

got away. The kid who called me.



   

                   

Scared out of his wits, this kid.



   

                   

All he can say is that the shooter



   

                   

- is some crazy guy.

- "Shooter"? Jesus Christ.



   

                   

Yeah, he said he went nuts.



   

                   

He was screaming,

"Tell him I'm coming!"



   

                   

"Tell 'em I'm coming?"



   

                   

"Tell him I'm coming."



   

                   

Who?



   

                   

Nobody knows.



   

                   

Great. This is sure

making the fuck out of my day.



   

                   

Oh, come on.

Terry, relax, would you please?



   

                   

The goods are gone. Money's been

turned around. Middlemen are dead.



   

                   

This is a good thing.

So don't panic, okay?



   

                   

No one can link anybody to you.



   

                   

Jenny did.



   

                   

Yeah, well, Jenny could,



   

                   

She'd already got to you,



   

                   

Terry Valentine,



   

                   

Do you know him?



   

                   

Valentine comes into the restaurant

a couple of times. He's a money guy.



   

                   

They were together how long?



   

                   

Five years. A long time.



   

                   

There you go.

Jenny must have liked him.



   

                   

Jenny would introduce me.

He'd shake my hand,



   

                   

but he wouldn't even see me.



   

                   

Jenny met him, got blinded

by his smile. Can you believe it?



   

                   

That son of a bitch

never smiled at me.



   

                   

Jenny and I were friends,



   

                   

but we didn't travel

in the same social circles,



   

                   

She had her life.

I had mine.



   

                   

How did you two hook up then?



   

                   

Jenny was in my acting class.



   

                   

She was    when she came to me,



   

                   

straight from leaving you.



   

                   

Maybe you should talk

to her best friend, Elaine.



   

                   

I do double duty as a voice coach.



   

                   

Not that her accent would have

hobbled her progress.



   

                   

Not with that look.



   

                   

She didn't write me.



   

                   

She didn't know what to say,



   

                   

I figured somebody should say

something to someone.



   

                   

You're Jenny's father.



   

                   

Why did you come here?



   

                   

Thought it would be nice

to chat with you.



   

                   

No.



   

                   

- Why did you come here?

- Get a few things sorted out,



   

                   

Been busy, have you?



   

                   

How do you mean?



   

                   

I heard you were, uh,,,



   

                   

What's that adorable expression?



   

                   

"At Her Majesty's pleasure."



   

                   

It was the bars, then?



   

                   

What was it,

Wembley Stadium job?



   

                   

That was it, right?



   

                   

Pink Floyd concert receipts?



   

                   

Earning interest

in an offshore account.



   

                   

Tidy little premium per annum, that.



   

                   

Security like that

can't be bought.



   

                   

It must be more comforting

than a daughter to greet you.



   

                   

- Ain't you gonna let me in?

- You can call me again.



   

                   

Weren't you in a soap on the box?



   

                   

Three seasons.

Did Eddie tell you that?



   

                   

Yeah, Eddie.

He's my new china.



   

                   

"China plate." Mate. Me and him.



   

                   

Quite a character, isn't he?

Not to you, of course,



   

                   

To us squares in the outside world.



   

                   

He give me your address.



   

                   

I gave him yours. I thought

I was being loyal to Jenny.



   

                   

Who told me she had no father.



   

                   

Before, of course,

proceeding to tell me why.



   

                   

Yeah, well,



   

                   

she was right, in a way.



   

                   

Her mum died when she was six.

Then she was on her own.



   

                   

Aunts and uncles, and then, well...



   

                   

How you gonna keep her down on

the farm after she's seen L.A.?



   

                   

They give me compassionate leave

to visit her in hospital.



   

                   

'Cause we was always mates.



   

                   

Jenny's mum and me,



   

                   

I like to think

they're together now,



   

                   

Heavenly choir.



   

                   

That's what you heard?



   

                   

That's where Eddie wrote you?

In prison?



   

                   

Oh, no. I knew.



   

                   

I knew before Ed.



   

                   

What time did it happen?



   

                   

Eddie said two in the morning.



   

                   

There's   hours difference between

here and London. That makes it



   

                   

   o'clock my time.



   

                   

I was going out in the yard. I used

to save my newspaper until then.



   

                   

You know, stretch my legs,

breath of fresh air, bit of a read.



   

                   

Stretch out

the good part of the day.



   

                   

And I couldn't open the newspaper.



   

                   

It was like the page was glued

together, my hands were that weak.



   

                   

I thought it was a heart attack.



   

                   

Of course, I knew it wasn't.



   

                   

A guy I knew came up. "Wilson,

you're as white as a sheet."



   

                   

I said, "Well, fuck me,

I been in prison half my life."



   

                   

But he was dead-on, because I'd felt

all the blood drain out of my head.



   

                   

And I knew...



   

                   

I knew something

had happened to Jen.



   

                   

She was...



   

                   

magic.



   

                   

I can't believe Jenny told you



   

                   

all about me.

She was always so embarrassed.



   

                   

Not embarrassed.



   

                   

Ashamed?



   

                   

Not ashamed,



   

                   

Disappointed.



   

                   

Do you even know

who Terry Valentine is?



   

                   

Some sort of pop producer, isn't he?



   

                   

We call it rock 'n' roll.



   

                   

Kind of a promoter, I guess.



   

                   

Whatever that means.



   

                   

Anyway, he took the whole



   

                   

   Southern California Zeitgeist

and ran with it,



   

                   

Packaged and sold it,



   

                   

Made out like a bandit,



   

                   

What's the deal?



   

                   

You and Terry Valentine at    paces?

Come on. Is that it?



   

                   

Don't see why not.



   

                   

Are you serious?



   

                   

Have you ever known me not to be?



   

                   

You fucking guys and your dicks.



   

                   

What do you want me to do?

Stay at home doing sweet F.A.?



   

                   

You don't believe

it was a car accident?



   

                   

Oh, yeah...



   

                   

She fell asleep at the wheel.



   

                   

Terry will never give you

that satisfaction.



   

                   

- He is not that type.

- Depends, don't it?



   

                   

On what?



   

                   

What makes you so certain?



   

                   

I bloody ask him.



   

                   

Fine. There's the phone.



   

                   

You want his number?



   

                   

Oh, I've got his number.



   

                   

Whatever you got to do, man,

better go do it.



   

                   

- He's brought in the heavy mob.

- You're kidding.



   

                   

Extra muscle. Bodyguards.



   

                   

They look like a right lot of

wallies. You should see them.



   

                   

- Patrolling in front of his house.

- Let me see.



   

                   

All done up

like Household Cavalry.



   

                   

Those are valets.



   

                   

What do you mean, valets?



   

                   

Who does he think he is?

The Marquees of fucking Tavistock?



   

                   

Valets, man. They park cars.

Looks like they're having a party.



   

                   

Are they?



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

Hey, trousers, keep it handy.

We're not staying long.



   

                   

Yes, sir.



   

                   

We're a little early, huh?



   

                   

First in, first out. That's me.



   

                   

Mind how you go.



   

                   

Gentlemen, what can I get you?



   

                   

Babysham, Eduardo?



   

                   

Dubonnet with a twist.



   

                   

Tomato juice with Tabasco?



   

                   

I'll have a Coke.



   

                   

You have the same posters.



   

                   

What?



   

                   

That are in your office.



   

                   

No, they're different.



   

                   

Well, I like the colors.



   

                   

We all did.



   

                   

Must have been a time, huh.

A golden moment.



   

                   

Have you ever dreamed about a place



   

                   

you never recalled being to before?



   

                   

A place that maybe

only exists in your imagination.



   

                   

Someplace far away,

half-remembered when you wake up?



   

                   

When you were there, though,

you knew the language.



   

                   

You knew your way around.



   

                   

That was the sixties.



   

                   

No, it wasn't that either.



   

                   

It was just    and early   .



   

                   

That's all it was.



   

                   

I'll have a butcher's

around the house.



   

                   

Who you gonna butcher?



   

                   

"Butcher's hook." "Look."



   

                   

Hi.



   

                   

- Terry, how are you?

- Great. And you?



   

                   

- Very well, thank you.

- Good to see you.



   

                   

Our counterfeit CDs are doing well.



   

                   

It was supposed to be an

infinity pool and go off the edge.



   

                   

- Definitely business affairs.

- Terry Valentine.



   

                   

- Good to see you.

- Nice to meet you.



   

                   

Shit.



   

                   

Hello?



   

                   

Hey.



   

                   

No, it's Crestview Terrace,

not Crestview Place.



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

There's three different ways up the

hill. The best way is Loma Vista.



   

                   

Loma Linda. Yeah.



   

                   

Yes. Okay.



   

                   

All right, bye.



   

                   

Well, it's the record business,

what can you say?



   

                   

- It's the "Hi, how are you?" crowd.

- It's got to be done, yeah.



   

                   

There you are.



   

                   

You know Jim.



   

                   

- Of course.

- Hi, how are you?



   

                   

Blimey!



   

                   

Yeah, if you can afford

a house like this, you buy one.



   

                   

What are we standing on?



   

                   

Trust.



   

                   

You know,



   

                   

you could see the sea

out there if you could see it.



   

                   

Could you?



   

                   

Where are you going?



   

                   

Hello?



   

                   

Don't do it.



   

                   

You produced the first

Christopher Cross album?



   

                   

Wow, that record changed my life!



   

                   

What was he like?

Just give me a scoop. A nugget.



   

                   

Basically I just do the contracts.



   

                   

That's it? Just the contracts?



   

                   

Bring the motor round.

Bang out in front.



   

                   

Point it downhill.



   

                   

As I was turning into Seward, I saw

this old guy locking up a car.



   

                   

And it was so unmarked it was

marked. I mean, it was just...



   

                   

Excuse me. Can I help you?



   

                   

Go! Go!



   

                   

Sir, are you okay?



   

                   

Steady on, Fangio.



   

                   

You "steady on", man!

What the fuck did you do?



   

                   

You didn't cap the guy, did you?



   

                   

Did you?



   

                   

No, too easy.



   

                   

Too easy?



   

                   

He's got to know why.



   

                   

You think a guy like that ever will?



   

                   

Down!



   

                   

What are we doing?



   

                   

Fuck!



   

                   

Wilson! Wilson! Wilson!



   

                   

Wilson, come on, man!



   

                   

Come on, come on!



   

                   

Shit!



   

                   

You're getting me

into all this shit.



   

                   

Wilson.



   

                   

Oh, boy.



   

                   

I should have done the talking.



   

                   

Because you're

my security consultant?



   

                   

- What the fuck?

- What did you tell them?



   

                   

I told them that

a longtime employee flipped out.



   

                   

That he had drug problems and

refused counselling, which is true.



   

                   

And that he committed suicide.



   

                   

And one of the guests

tried to stop him.



   

                   

Jim, how the fuck do you stop

Gordon at four hundred pounds?



   

                   

That was good.



   

                   

Well, he's heavier than that now.



   

                   

Jenny never told you about her dad?



   

                   

Her dad? What dad?



   

                   

The one who was in prison for nine

years. He was released last month.



   

                   

Jenny's father was in prison?



   

                   

- For what?

- Armed robbery. Again.



   

                   

- Again? Oh, God.

- Yeah, he's a career criminal.



   

                   

He's on leave of absence. Get it?



   

                   

Where are you going?



   

                   

I want to find him before they do.



   

                   

Oh, man, I am fucking screwed.



   

                   

I am screwed to the wall!



   

                   

I don't suppose he entered

the country under his own name.



   

                   

Oh, give me a fucking break.

Can you do that?



   

                   

I would if I came

this far to kill someone.



   

                   

Oh, man.



   

                   

Okay.



   

                   

Not even one of your guys

should handle this.



   

                   

- What should I do? Tell them?

- No, I mean,



   

                   

I told them I didn't know

who he was. People come, people go.



   

                   

How will you find him?



   

                   

Terry, he's not James Bond.



   

                   

This is some pathetic sad sack

wandering around.



   

                   

Tell that to Gordon.



   

                   

What's England anyway?

Some rinky-dink country,



   

                   

where the cops

don't even carry guns?



   

                   

Oh, man, this is getting

all too close to me.



   

                   

You know, people close to you

keep falling into canyons.



   

                   

Now, that's brilliant.



   

                   

Hey, relax.



   

                   

I have other resources.



   

                   

I have other resources.



   

                   

No one even near to me.



   

                   

Because I am out of here.



   

                   

I'm gone.



   

                   

How do you keep getting so lucky?



   

                   

I learned how to skate

when I was a boy.



   

                   

Even after a dozen interventions,

if a person won't face up to...



   

                   

I guess not.



   

                   

Lots of people

in the music industry



   

                   

have been taken down

by doing too many...



   

                   

many...



   

                   

drugs.



   

                   

Straight rotation. Call your shots,

scratch on the eight, you lose.



   

                   

- Okay.

- I break, right?



   

                   

Yeah, break 'em up.



   

                   

He broke last time.



   

                   

What did you say?



   

                   

- He broke last time.

- Let me break.



   

                   

So what?

He loves to break.



   

                   

Look, he's all excited.



   

                   

I see that.

I don't give a shit



   

                   

if he does or not.

It's my break.



   

                   

- I won the break.

- "I won the break."



   

                   

- What the fuck is that?

- I'm kidding.



   

                   

- Are these your quarters?

- Yeah.



   

                   

- What the fuck is he doing?

- I don't know, man.



   

                   

Go fuck yourself!

And take Mr. Goodwrench with you.



   

                   

I'd tell you to blow it out your ass

but my dick's in the way.



   

                   

Did I cross the line?



   

                   

Does that mean you forfeit?



   

                   

- It was just a game.

- Stacy!



   

                   

Come over here.



   

                   

How's it going?



   

                   

Not bad.



   

                   

- Like to kill someone for me?

- Okay.



   

                   

Same as last time.

The rest after.



   

                   

Where do we go?



   

                   

When you find the guy, you'll know.



   

                   

What is this shit?

I do it, I don't organize it.



   

                   

I can point you, but you've got

to take it into the end zone.



   

                   

This bum's a hit-and-run gunman. I

doubt he's cruising the Polo Lounge.



   

                   

This is un-fucking-professional.



   

                   

Well, a successful man

like me has limitations.



   

                   

I lose touch at the street level,

so I have to depend on a smart boy



   

                   

like you who's closer

to the nitty-gritty.



   

                   

Fuck you,

Mr. Whatever-your-name is!



   

                   

This is a lifestyle I embrace.



   

                   

That's why I'm letting you

take care of this.



   

                   

I'm the one

with appearances to maintain.



   

                   

But who gives a shit about you?



   

                   

Not even God.



   

                   

Get it done.



   

                   

Get a tie.



   

                   

- How much?

- Five grand.



   

                   

Got half in my pocket.



   

                   

- Making trouble for someone?

- Yup.



   

                   

Which kind?



   

                   

The forever kind.



   

                   

- She may not know the English dude,

- I don't know,



   

                   

- She was tight with his daughter.

- But that don't mean nothing.



   

                   

She's nice looking.



   

                   

- So what?

- I just said she's nice looking.



   

                   

And I said, "So what?"

Is she happier?



   

                   

- What do you mean, "happier"?

- Happier than any other asshole?



   

                   

I don't know.

I never met her.



   

                   

What is this shit? They should make

shows about people's daily lives.



   

                   

"Sick Old Man"

or "Skinny Little Weakling."



   

                   

"Big Fat Guy". Wouldn't you watch

a show called "Big Fat Guy"?



   

                   

Extras?

Oh, excuse me, "background artists".



   

                   

"Hi, Mom, Dad.



   

                   

Yeah, Hollywood's great.

I'm still a loser."



   

                   

I wonder

what it's like to have tits.



   

                   

Jesus, are you gay enough?

"Hello, Studio City!"



   

                   

Fag.



   

                   

Look at this guy.

Yeah, they need that right away.



   

                   

What's the smartest thing

to come out of a woman's mouth?



   

                   

Einstein's cock.



   

                   

That little kid's kind of cute,

though, you know?



   

                   

A little young, but...



   

                   

You want to run it with me now?



   

                   

Did you forget your words?



   

                   

I got him.

Step aside, ma'am.



   

                   

Come with us.



   

                   

Wasn't half crowded

in the back of that car.



   

                   

Drug Enforcement?



   

                   

Narcs?



   

                   

I don't suppose you prefer

a steady income.



   

                   

I've got a steady income.

I'm on the dole.



   

                   

A leech

on the welfare state as well.



   

                   

You don't miss a trick.



   

                   

Just a fiddle.



   

                   

They've got me down

as an immigrant with five kids.



   

                   

Jenny spoke fondly

of her imaginary siblings.



   

                   

Do you even remember

the last time you saw her?



   

                   

I remember every time I saw her.



   

                   

I watched her grow up



   

                   

in increments.



   

                   

She said

you were a ghost in her life,



   

                   

Daddy, the friendly ghost,



   

                   

She twigged when she was   or  

that I wasn't in the Royal Marines.



   

                   

Or playing lago

in some world tour of Othello.



   

                   

Freedom is a word I rarely use



   

                   

without thinking,



   

                   

without thinking,



   

                   

of the time,



   

                   

of the time



   

                   

when I've been loved,



   

                   

She was always threatening me,



   

                   

Can you imagine?



   

                   

"If you're naughty, Dad, I'll put

the law on you. Promise".



   

                   

She didn't want me

to get sent down again.



   

                   

And if she got wind

that I was planning something,



   

                   

"I'll shop you, Dad.

I promise I'll shop you".



   

                   

I can see her picking up the phone:

"Look, I'm calling the Old Bill."



   

                   

It became a joke between us, only...



   

                   

It wasn't really,



   

                   

She would never have turned you in.



   

                   

Not in a million years.



   

                   

I know that.

But as time went on,



   

                   

well, in ever decreasing circles,



   

                   

the joke wore off.



   

                   

She had a feeling

about this last job.



   

                   

How long I'd get banged up for.



   

                   

Said she wouldn't

be around this time,



   

                   

when I got out.



   

                   

And she wasn't,



   

                   

How you doing then?

You all right?



   

                   

Now, squire,

I can see you're the guv'nor here.



   

                   

I'm on your manor now, so don't

get your knickers in a twist.



   

                   

Whatever this bollocks is between

you and that slag Valentine,



   

                   

it's got nothing

to do with me. All right, mate?



   

                   

I'll explain it to you. When I

was in prison the second time...



   

                   

No, tell a lie, third stretch.

Yeah, third.



   

                   

There was this screw

what really had it in for me.



   

                   

And that geezer was top of my list.



   

                   

Two years after I got sprung,

I sees him in Holland Park,



   

                   

on a bench feeding bloody pigeons.



   

                   

There was no one about. I could

have gone up and snapped his neck.



   

                   

Wallop! But I left it.



   

                   

I could have knobbed him,

but I didn't.



   

                   

What I thought I wanted, I didn't.



   

                   

I was thinking about something else.



   

                   

I didn't give a toss.

It didn't matter.



   

                   

This berk on the bench

wasn't worth my time.



   

                   

It meant sod all in the end.



   

                   

You got to choose

when to do something or let it go.



   

                   

When it matters and when it don't.



   

                   

Bide your time. Prison

teaches you that if nothing else.



   

                   

Bide your time

and everything becomes clear.



   

                   

And you can act accordingly.



   

                   

There's one thing

I don't understand.



   

                   

The thing I don't understand is

every motherfucking word you say.



   

                   

Do you know what I reckon?



   

                   

You and I are after the same thing,



   

                   

but for different reasons.



   

                   

- And what would that be?

- The reasons?



   

                   

Start with the thing.



   

                   

I would guess

that whatever you're after,



   

                   

involves

a considerable sum of money.



   

                   

And that's not

what lights your fire?



   

                   

In the past, granted, I have been

known to redistribute wealth.



   

                   

But no, I'm after another kind of



   

                   

satisfaction.



   

                   

Know what I mean?



   

                   

You're not from around here,

are you?



   

                   

You don't carry any kind of I.D.



   

                   

I.D.? No. When your chaps

went through my pockets,



   

                   

they found nothing.



   

                   

Your connection

to Terry Valentine?



   

                   

My daughter was living

with him when she died.



   

                   

I imagine about the same time

as whatever the deal was



   

                   

that Terry Valentine

grafted you out of your share of.



   

                   

When I say "grafted", I...



   

                   

You think Valentine

screwed me out of some deal?



   

                   

It wouldn't surprise me. He's about

as straight as a dog's hind leg.



   

                   

What could this deal have been,



   

                   

to set in motion

such an unfortunate chain of events?



   

                   

Could have been anything.



   

                   

A shitload of heroin

imported from somewhere or other.



   

                   

The usual scumbags involved.

But the thing about scumbags is



   

                   

no matter what they do with drugs,

it's harder to move the money.



   

                   

The money.



   

                   

In my line of work,

you follow the money.



   

                   

Because you can't hide the money,

only disguise it. So what do you do?



   

                   

Find some rich fool to bank the cash

coming in, make it look legitimate,



   

                   

in exchange for skimming

a percentage off the top.



   

                   

Maybe as much as

a million dollars commission.



   

                   

Rich fool

who overextended himself over time,



   

                   

in danger of

not being so rich anymore.



   

                   

But I can't be sure.

Can't prove anything.



   

                   

Anything at all.



   

                   

What was

your daughter's involvement?



   

                   

That's what I want to know.



   

                   

I was hoping you might.



   

                   

The security guy that works for

Valentine and those creeps after you



   

                   

I shouldn't wonder.

Yeah, must have done.



   

                   

He's a slippery fellow.



   

                   

But he keeps his hands clean,

and Valentine's.



   

                   

Darn it.



   

                   

There go my slippery hands again.



   

                   

There was an incident

in downtown L, A, a few days ago



   

                   

that may have spurred

this most recent



   

                   

activity. But you know

nothing about that, right?



   

                   

Thank you.



   

                   

Your daughter had a fondness

for dangerous men.



   

                   

Shame about the money going into

Valentine's pocket and not yours.



   

                   

I don't give a shit about the money.



   

                   

Personally, I prefer the heroin.



   

                   

See, crooks move faster

than the system,



   

                   

so if we're going

to clean up the neighborhood,



   

                   

we don't have time to wait for

search warrants and trials,



   

                   

Procedure becomes whatever



   

                   

you got to do on the day.



   

                   

Well, cheers, mate.



   

                   

Go with God.



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

I was coming back from a motorcycle

classic in Sturgis, South Dakota,



   

                   

on my motorcycle.

On U.S. Highway   .



   

                   

Just outside Spotted Horse,



   

                   

I ran into a deer.

I had no chance.



   

                   

Even though the highway people

had mowed the sides,



   

                   

they couldn't mow

around the culverts,



   

                   

and the doe jumped right

in front of the bike.



   

                   

I had a chance to say one word,

"Fuck!", and then I hit it.



   

                   

I know this: If a bullet

has my name on it,



   

                   

I won't be calling for my mother.



   

                   

But the only reason

I'm alive and telling this story,



   

                   

is because of the big FL front end

and that solid tire on my Fat Boy.



   

                   

- Oh, your Fat Boy.

- Yeah,



   

                   

exactly. I was wearing the Fat Boy.



   

                   

I saw the ground, and I thought,

"Put it down."



   

                   

And I just rode this bike down

into the ground.



   

                   

You told me this story before.



   

                   

- I did?

- Yeah.



   

                   

I'm sorry.



   

                   

- I'll hear it again, if you want.

- Oh, you're sweet.



   

                   

God, you are wonderful.



   

                   

What's wrong?



   

                   

Nothing.



   

                   

It must be hard to pass

on this road.



   

                   

Oh, the freeway's faster,

but it lacks a certain



   

                   

majesty.



   

                   

It's just the car behind us

has been following us for a while.



   

                   

I sure hope so.



   

                   

Where is Big Sur?



   

                   

Up the coast,



   

                   

How far?



   

                   

I don't know,



   

                   

A few hours, I guess, Why?



   

                   

That's where he scarpered,



   

                   

- How do you know?

- Bloke told me,



   

                   

You shouldn't go back to your place,

Not till this is settled,



   

                   

What's a sliding scale?



   

                   

A sliding scale?

Well, a sliding scale, um,,,



   

                   

If we were in a union,



   

                   

we'd all make different rates

based on the time we served,



   

                   

- So since he's been...

- That's not a sliding scale.



   

                   

- What?

- That's not a sliding scale.



   

                   

- Well, what's a sliding scale?

- A sliding scale is...



   

                   

The scale is, you know, you start

off somewhere and you move up.



   

                   

Or you move down.

That's a sliding scale.



   

                   

- He doesn't know what it is.

- You move down?



   

                   

Dogshit cues!



   

                   

I could break a branch off a tree

that's straighter than this.



   

                   

Stacy!



   

                   

Go ahead, break 'em up.



   

                   

I just got chewed out.

You fucking believe that?



   

                   

- What does he want from us?

- That's what I said.



   

                   

He didn't tell us there were

Negroes following the guy too.



   

                   

Something's on, man.



   

                   

What?



   

                   

Let's just say I know more

about Mr. Avery than he thinks I do.



   

                   

- I got a guy on the inside.

- Who's that?



   

                   

That putz Tom from Seattle.



   

                   

- Tom Johanssen?

- Yeah, from Seattle.



   

                   

- I sent him to Avery.

- And what did he say?



   

                   

They're taking a road trip

up the coast.



   

                   

He and Avery and a couple of guys,



   

                   

Should we hit

this English guy again?



   

                   

Yeah, if he hasn't

gotten whacked in bucktown,



   

                   

we might still have our aces.



   

                   

I just can't figure out

who this guy is.



   

                   

A courier?

A buyer? A seller?



   

                   

Anyway,



   

                   

Avery wants him.



   

                   

Those jigs wanted him.



   

                   

You can bet your ass

there's a briefcase somewhere.



   

                   

A briefcase?



   

                   

What's in it?



   

                   

Drugs, cash, whatever.

Both, if we're lucky.



   

                   

And while they're all fucking

each other over, we move right in.



   

                   

Can I ask you a question?



   

                   

Another one?



   

                   

Yeah, like, do you have any friends?



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

You could call them that, I suppose.



   

                   

Yeah, down the boozer.

Saturday night. Meet the chaps.



   

                   

Friends and colleagues.



   

                   

A lot of them are gone,



   

                   

The old faces,



   

                   

Don't know where,



   

                   

Different characters nowadays,

Different



   

                   

assumptions,

You don't know where you are,



   

                   

The last load of friends I had



   

                   

turned out

not to be my friends after all.



   

                   

Elaine, you ever understand

half the shit this guy is saying?



   

                   

No, but I know what he means.



   

                   

You know,

I should be in Paris or Kurdistan.



   

                   

He'd find you in Kurdistan.



   

                   

Try London. He has a history

of being apprehended there.



   

                   

You're a font of optimism.



   

                   

What else

have your techies come up with?



   

                   

Terry, we're trying

to hunt him down,



   

                   

and I've got my foot soldiers

out there. What more can I do?



   

                   

And if he comes here?



   

                   

And what if he does?



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

You don't want

to tell me about this?



   

                   

About being here,

with the bodyguards and everything.



   

                   

I don't suppose you've ever had

anything like enemies?



   

                   

Well, I never went for

the cheerleading squad,



   

                   

and I never stole

anyone's boyfriend that I know of.



   

                   

So... no, I'd like to think not.



   

                   

You never will.



   

                   

Come on now. I don't want anybody

limiting my possibilities.



   

                   

That won't happen either.



   

                   

This is...



   

                   

This is just a precaution.



   

                   

I'm sorry.

I didn't mean to drag you along.



   

                   

I needed you to, um...



   

                   

- I just don't...

- You don't want to be alone?



   

                   

You see?



   

                   

You understand that

about me already.



   

                   

Where is she?



   

                   

Terry scattered her ashes



   

                   

from a boat,



   

                   

He buries her at a private service.

Private for who? Him? Shit.



   

                   

Jenny lived at the beach

when she moved here.



   

                   

She loved the ocean,



   

                   

She was from an island.



   

                   

Shit.



   

                   

Are you throwing the shells

back in there?



   

                   

Feel better?



   

                   

Yeah.



   

                   

It's amazing here, I went out

last night, We went to this,,,



   

                   

We went to

this Italian restaurant and,,,



   

                   

Check the news.



   

                   

- Where's the remote?

- I don't know.



   

                   

Fuck.



   

                   

Where the hell is Rick?



   

                   

Shut off all the inside lights.

And stay away from the windows.



   

                   

- Have you heard of knocking?

- Come with me.



   

                   

- What's going on?

- Now.



   

                   

- Look at that?

- What?



   

                   

That shadow.



   

                   

I don't see it.



   

                   

I thought I told you



   

                   

to stay away from the windows.



   

                   

Come on, everybody.

In here.



   

                   

Go on, behind the counter.



   

                   

Let's go. Behind the counter.



   

                   

Terry.



   

                   

What's going on here?



   

                   

- We think somebody's here.

- What? We think?



   

                   

We can't find Rick and, uh...



   

                   

Larry.



   

                   

- Did you call the cops?

- No.



   

                   

- Why not?

- Because I'm handling it.



   

                   

You guys are nuts!

I'm calling the cops.



   

                   

Mr. Avery.



   

                   

Watch my back.



   

                   

Son of a bitch.



   

                   

- Fuck.

- What is it?



   

                   

I think Avery's down.



   

                   

Fuck this!



   

                   

Don't!

I'm a friend of Stacy's!



   

                   

Fuck you, Tom.



   

                   

Stay there.



   

                   

What?



   

                   

Where are you going?



   

                   

Jesus!



   

                   

Tell me.



   

                   

Tell me about Jenny.



   

                   

Tell me about Jenny.



   

                   

Tell me about Jenny!



   

                   

I needed money.



   

                   

I would have given her

anything she wanted but



   

                   

she found out about my deal.



   

                   

She tried to stop me. She said

she was going to turn me in.



   

                   

She was going to call the cops.



   

                   

I couldn't stop it,



   

                   

It had happened. It was over.



   

                   

She was going to call the cops,



   

                   

She meant it,



   

                   

She had the phone in her hand,



   

                   

She was going to call the cops,



   

                   

She meant it,



   

                   

I couldn't stop it,



   

                   

I couldn't do anything,



   

                   

You're English.



   

                   

That's right.



   

                   

I can never decide what's better.



   

                   

Leaving home or coming back,



   

                   

I prefer staying home, me,



   

                   

Oh, so you're a reluctant traveler,



   

                   

Got called out to L, A,

unexpected-like,



   

                   

Do a job of work,



   

                   

No rest for the wicked,



   

                   

Been away a lot,



   

                   

Where else?



   

                   

Out on an oil rig

in the North Sea,



   

                   

Nine years,



   

                   

Nine years? Wow!

Is that legal?



   

                   

Well, time off for good behavior.



   

                   

I shouldn't have been there,



   

                   

It was those other lads what should

have been there in my place,



   

                   

Then just when

I finished my nine years,



   

                   

my contract...



   

                   

Wallop!

I had to bugger off to the States.



   

                   

Sounds like you need a rest.



   

                   

Yeah, could be.



   

                   

Freedom is a word I rarely use



   

                   

without thinking,



   

                   

without thinking



   

                   

of the time,



   

                   

of the time



   

                   

when I was loved,



   

                   

Very good.



   

                   

- Yeah?

- Yeah.



   

                   

- Getting better, aren't I?

- You are.



   

                   

Tell me,



   

                   

Tell me,



   

                   

Tell me about Jenny,



   

                   

Edward Roel?



   

                   

Eduardo Roel.



   

                   

Edward Roel?



   

                   

Eduardo Roel.



   

                   

You're home then.



   

                   

My name's Wilson.



   

                   

Wilson?



   

                   

You wrote me about my daughter.



   

                   

Oh, uh, yeah.

Come in.



   

                   

Who's done it then?



   

                   

Snuffed her?



   

                   

What are you talking about?



   

                   

I sent you the newspaper clipping.

Told you all I know.



   

                   

I never said anything

about nobody being snuffed.



   

                   

Look...



   

                   

There was an investigation.

The car was totalled. Jenny was...



   

                   

Her neck broke, they said,,,



   

                   

on impact.



   

                   

So she wouldn't have felt the fire,

Those streets up them hills,,,



   

                   

You got to be careful. You got

to keep your eyes on the ball.



   

                   

Two o'clock in the morning, it's

dark, your mind's a little agitated.



   

                   

You're driving a little too fast...



   

                   

Those curves don't kid around.



   

                   

Could've happened to anybody, Jenny

wasn't reckless, She'd drink,



   

                   

have a little pot, but that was it.



   

                   

No, not my girl,



   

                   

Self-control she had.



   

                   

It was a point of pride.



   

                   

Where'd she get it, this grass,



   

                   

- or whatever?

- No, no, no.



   

                   

I'm no drug dealer, man.

What do you think?



   

                   

I think you didn't get that ink

in the Navy,



   

                   

doing your national service,



   

                   

Hey, I already told you, man,

Corcoran, you know?



   

                   

You know what that is?

State prison.



   

                   

I did my time. My sister, her man

is doing   years in Chino.



   

                   

I work. I put my life together.

I put all that shit behind me.



   

                   

Five years in the joint.

That's it.



   

                   

I just got out myself, didn't I?



   

                   

This bloke she was bunked up with,,,



   

                   

- Terry what's-it,,,

- Terry Valentine,



   

                   

- What's he got to say for himself?

- I don't know,



   

                   

They had a fight, she drove away,

she was upset.



   

                   

A few weeks before Jenny died,



   

                   

she had me drive her downtown,



   

                   

She said she wanted to talk

to her boyfriend, Valentine.



   

                   

But I think

she was looking for him,



   

                   

- Catch him with another bird?

- That's what I thought.



   

                   

But we didn't go to the hotel

We went someplace else,



   

                   

Whereabouts?



   

                   

Some bad place,

Bad people,



   

                   

Some guy unloading trucks,

Some kind of deal going on,



   

                   

Now, I don't know

and I don't care, okay?



   

                   

It could have been

fava beans to Eskimos,



   

                   

- Did Jenny know?

- Valentine wasn't there,



   

                   

so if he or she were involved,

who's to say?



   

                   

But I'll tell you,



   

                   

Jenny stood in front of those guys,



   

                   

eyeballing them,



   

                   

I felt like she was covering my ass,



   

                   

I can't believe that.

Really?



   

                   

What did she say?



   

                   

Hang on.



   

                   

May I help you?



   

                   

Can't be too careful nowadays.

Lot of tea leaves about.



   

                   

- You know what I mean?

- Excuse me?



   

                   

Tea leaves - thieves.

Terry Valentine. Do you know him?



   

                   

And... who are you?



   

                   

Wilson. My name's Wilson.



   

                   

Wilson.



   

                   

- I never heard of you.

- I'm not that well-known.



   

                   

Except around certain police nicks.



   

                   

- Police what?

- Who me? No, can't be bothered.



   

                   

Hey! Who the fuck are you?

How did you get in here?



   

                   

A little bird told me you and Terry

Valentine have business dealings.



   

                   

- I don't know a Terry Valentine.

- Don't you?



   

                   

Take a walk, pal.

You're making a big mistake.



   

                   

Go on, get the hell out.



   

                   

What have you been up to, pal?



   

                   

What have you been doing, son?

You got to buck your ideas up.



   

                   

What have you been doing?



   

                   

Jennifer Wilson.



   

                   

That name mean anything to you?



   

                   

Hey, what's the deal here?



   

                   

Hey, whoa, hold on!



   

                   

What the hell? Who is this guy?



   

                   

The only reason you're not dead

is I want to know who you are.



   

                   

Jennifer Wilson was my daughter.



   

                   

- Who the fuck is...

- Was she that chick that came here?



   

                   

Yeah, talked the same way

as this cocksucker.



   

                   

Terry Valentine is a friend of mine.



   

                   

And I don't talk about my friends

with strangers. Your cunt daughter



   

                   

come up here

sticking her tits in my face.



   

                   

Who am I?

How do I know Terry?



   

                   

What's the nature

of our business together?



   

                   

I admire Terry for

a lot of things, but I got to say,



   

                   

he let himself get



   

                   

royally pussy-whipped

by that fucking bitch.



   

                   

Know what I would like

to have done to her?



   

                   

What I would like to have done?



   

                   

Then after I got done...



   

                   

I bet she would've liked that.



   

                   

Too bas she took

a nose dive off that cliff.



   

                   

Probably dried her all up.



   

                   

I got a gun right here!



   

                   

Get him out of here.



   

                   

- You want me to call an ambulance?

- No!



   

                   

I'm gonna call Avery.



   

                   

Go, man!

Just get out of here!



   

                   

Come back here again, Pop,

and we'll kill you.



   

                   

This is private property.



   

                   

We will shoot you, fuck-o.

Get it?



    

                   

Old fart comes here

with his big dangerous gun.



    

                   

We're quaking! We're quaking!



    

                   

Yeah. Shit!



    

                   

Come on back and visit and trespass.

We look forward to it, asshole.



    

                   

Stupid English fuck!



    

                   

You tell him!



    

                   

You tell him I'm coming!



    

                   

Tell him I'm fucking coming!



    

                   

"Tell 'em I'm coming?"



    

                   

"Tell him I'm coming,"



    

                   

Who?



    

                   

Nobody knows,



    

                   

Adhara.

I remember telling your parents,



    

                   

"If you want a name, you can't

go wrong with a constellation."



    

                   

Well, I used to hate it.

Now I like it.



    

                   

It could be worse.

They could have called you



    

                   

Reticulum... Pleiades.



    

                   

God, you're beautiful.



    

                   

Is there anything

in this world you want or need?



    

                   

I want to know why you need

that scary man in your house.



    

                   

Gordon's been with me for years.

He's not as tough as he looks.



    

                   

- Then what good is he?

- Heard of loyalty?



    

                   

Yeah. I'm loyal

to things that make me happy.



    

                   

Oh, am I a thing?



    

                   

You're certainly not a person.



    

                   

- I'm not?

- No.



    

                   

You're not specific enough to be a

person. You're more like a vibe.



    

                   

I'm glad we're having this chat.

Come here.



    

                   

Get out of the pool.



    

                   

Terry!



    

                   

I don't know

what transpired exactly,



    

                   

Our friends downtown,

someone took them out.



    

                   

What the fuck does

"took them out" mean?



    

                   

It used to mean a gangland slaying.

Maybe it still does.



    

                   

Well, who?



    

                   

Blacks?



    

                   

Blacks? No, Terry,

it's not their style.



    

                   

From what I gather,

it was a Ione gunman.



    

                   

You sound like the   o'clock news,



    

                   

Why are you telling me this shit?



    

                   

I don't want you to hear about it

and then freak out.



    

                   

Fuck you, Jim.

I don't freak out anymore.



    

                   

It was probably nothing.



    

                   

That's usually what senseless mayhem

comes down to, Bad loan,



    

                   

bad judgement, bad faith,



    

                   

These were bad people,

involved with worse people.



    

                   

Cops got a lot of leads, so...



    

                   

As long as nobody

can connect anything to me.



    

                   

No one will connect anything to you.



    

                   

That was a one-off deal,

You hopped on, you hopped off,



    

                   

Anything else, I would have

had you walk away.



    

                   

You never saw them again, right?



    

                   

Are you crazy?



    

                   

They're your friends, not mine,



    

                   

What?



    

                   

Your "clients"?



    

                   

Let's say I befriended them

when you needed them.



    

                   

Well, the cops. I mean...



    

                   

Are they satisfied with

this gangland shit or what?



    

                   

The cops don't get satisfied.

They get placated.



    

                   

They're talking to the kid who

got away. The kid who called me.



    

                   

Scared out of his wits, this kid.



    

                   

All he can say is that the shooter



    

                   

- is some crazy guy.

- "Shooter"? Jesus Christ.



    

                   

Yeah, he said he went nuts.



    

                   

He was screaming,

"Tell him I'm coming!"



    

                   

"Tell 'em I'm coming?"



    

                   

"Tell him I'm coming."



    

                   

Who?



    

                   

Nobody knows.



    

                   

Great. This is sure

making the fuck out of my day.



    

                   

Oh, come on.

Terry, relax, would you please?



    

                   

The goods are gone. Money's been

turned around. Middlemen are dead.



    

                   

This is a good thing.

So don't panic, okay?



    

                   

No one can link anybody to you.



    

                   

Jenny did.



    

                   

Yeah, well, Jenny could,



    

                   

She'd already got to you,



    

                   

Terry Valentine,



    

                   

Do you know him?



    

                   

Valentine comes into the restaurant

a couple of times. He's a money guy.



    

                   

They were together how long?



    

                   

Five years. A long time.



    

                   

There you go.

Jenny must have liked him.



    

                   

Jenny would introduce me.

He'd shake my hand,



    

                   

but he wouldn't even see me.



    

                   

Jenny met him, got blinded

by his smile. Can you believe it?



    

                   

That son of a bitch

never smiled at me.



    

                   

Jenny and I were friends,



    

                   

but we didn't travel

in the same social circles,



    

                   

She had her life.

I had mine.



    

                   

How did you two hook up then?



    

                   

Jenny was in my acting class.



    

                   

She was    when she came to me,



    

                   

straight from leaving you.



    

                   

Maybe you should talk

to her best friend, Elaine.



    

                   

I do double duty as a voice coach.



    

                   

Not that her accent would have

hobbled her progress.



    

                   

Not with that look.



    

                   

She didn't write me.



    

                   

She didn't know what to say,



    

                   

I figured somebody should say

something to someone.



    

                   

You're Jenny's father.



    

                   

Why did you come here?



    

                   

Thought it would be nice

to chat with you.



    

                   

No.



    

                   

- Why did you come here?

- Get a few things sorted out,



    

                   

Been busy, have you?



    

                   

How do you mean?



    

                   

I heard you were, uh,,,



    

                   

What's that adorable expression?



    

                   

"At Her Majesty's pleasure."



    

                   

It was the bars, then?



    

                   

What was it,

Wembley Stadium job?



    

                   

That was it, right?



    

                   

Pink Floyd concert receipts?



    

                   

Earning interest

in an offshore account.



    

                   

Tidy little premium per annum, that.



    

                   

Security like that

can't be bought.



    

                   

It must be more comforting

than a daughter to greet you.



    

                   

- Ain't you gonna let me in?

- You can call me again.



    

                   

Weren't you in a soap on the box?



    

                   

Three seasons.

Did Eddie tell you that?



    

                   

Yeah, Eddie.

He's my new china.



    

                   

"China plate." Mate. Me and him.



    

                   

Quite a character, isn't he?

Not to you, of course,



    

                   

To us squares in the outside world.



    

                   

He give me your address.



    

                   

I gave him yours. I thought

I was being loyal to Jenny.



    

                   

Who told me she had no father.



    

                   

Before, of course,

proceeding to tell me why.



    

                   

Yeah, well,



    

                   

she was right, in a way.



    

                   

Her mum died when she was six.

Then she was on her own.



    

                   

Aunts and uncles, and then, well...



    

                   

How you gonna keep her down on

the farm after she's seen L.A.?



    

                   

They give me compassionate leave

to visit her in hospital.



    

                   

'Cause we was always mates.



    

                   

Jenny's mum and me,



    

                   

I like to think

they're together now,



    

                   

Heavenly choir.



    

                   

That's what you heard?



    

                   

That's where Eddie wrote you?

In prison?



    

                   

Oh, no. I knew.



    

                   

I knew before Ed.



    

                   

What time did it happen?



    

                   

Eddie said two in the morning.



    

                   

There's   hours difference between

here and London. That makes it



    

                   

   o'clock my time.



    

                   

I was going out in the yard. I used

to save my newspaper until then.



    

                   

You know, stretch my legs,

breath of fresh air, bit of a read.



    

                   

Stretch out

the good part of the day.



    

                   

And I couldn't open the newspaper.



    

                   

It was like the page was glued

together, my hands were that weak.



    

                   

I thought it was a heart attack.



    

                   

Of course, I knew it wasn't.



    

                   

A guy I knew came up. "Wilson,

you're as white as a sheet."



    

                   

I said, "Well, fuck me,

I been in prison half my life."



    

                   

But he was dead-on, because I'd felt

all the blood drain out of my head.



    

                   

And I knew...



    

                   

I knew something

had happened to Jen.



    

                   

She was...



    

                   

magic.



    

                   

I can't believe Jenny told you



    

                   

all about me.

She was always so embarrassed.



    

                   

Not embarrassed.



    

                   

Ashamed?



    

                   

Not ashamed,



    

                   

Disappointed.



    

                   

Do you even know

who Terry Valentine is?



    

                   

Some sort of pop producer, isn't he?



    

                   

We call it rock 'n' roll.



    

                   

Kind of a promoter, I guess.



    

                   

Whatever that means.



    

                   

Anyway, he took the whole



    

                   

   Southern California Zeitgeist

and ran with it,



    

                   

Packaged and sold it,



    

                   

Made out like a bandit,



    

                   

What's the deal?



    

                   

You and Terry Valentine at    paces?

Come on. Is that it?



    

                   

Don't see why not.



    

                   

Are you serious?



    

                   

Have you ever known me not to be?



    

                   

You fucking guys and your dicks.



    

                   

What do you want me to do?

Stay at home doing sweet F.A.?



    

                   

You don't believe

it was a car accident?



    

                   

Oh, yeah...



    

                   

She fell asleep at the wheel.



    

                   

Terry will never give you

that satisfaction.



    

                   

- He is not that type.

- Depends, don't it?



    

                   

On what?



    

                   

What makes you so certain?



    

                   

I bloody ask him.



    

                   

Fine. There's the phone.



    

                   

You want his number?



    

                   

Oh, I've got his number.



    

                   

Whatever you got to do, man,

better go do it.



    

                   

- He's brought in the heavy mob.

- You're kidding.



    

                   

Extra muscle. Bodyguards.



    

                   

They look like a right lot of

wallies. You should see them.



    

                   

- Patrolling in front of his house.

- Let me see.



    

                   

All done up

like Household Cavalry.



    

                   

Those are valets.



    

                   

What do you mean, valets?



    

                   

Who does he think he is?

The Marquees of fucking Tavistock?



    

                   

Valets, man. They park cars.

Looks like they're having a party.



    

                   

Are they?



    

                   

Thank you.



    

                   

Hey, trousers, keep it handy.

We're not staying long.



    

                   

Yes, sir.



    

                   

We're a little early, huh?



    

                   

First in, first out. That's me.



    

                   

Mind how you go.



    

                   

Gentlemen, what can I get you?



    

                   

Babysham, Eduardo?



    

                   

Dubonnet with a twist.



    

                   

Tomato juice with Tabasco?



    

                   

I'll have a Coke.



    

                   

You have the same posters.



    

                   

What?



    

                   

That are in your office.



    

                   

No, they're different.



    

                   

Well, I like the colors.



    

                   

We all did.



    

                   

Must have been a time, huh.

A golden moment.



    

                   

Have you ever dreamed about a place



    

                   

you never recalled being to before?



    

                   

A place that maybe

only exists in your imagination.



    

                   

Someplace far away,

half-remembered when you wake up?



    

                   

When you were there, though,

you knew the language.



    

                   

You knew your way around.



    

                   

That was the sixties.



    

                   

No, it wasn't that either.



    

                   

It was just    and early   .



    

                   

That's all it was.



    

                   

I'll have a butcher's

around the house.



    

                   

Who you gonna butcher?



    

                   

"Butcher's hook." "Look."



    

                   

Hi.



    

                   

- Terry, how are you?

- Great. And you?



    

                   

- Very well, thank you.

- Good to see you.



    

                   

Our counterfeit CDs are doing well.



    

                   

It was supposed to be an

infinity pool and go off the edge.



    

                   

- Definitely business affairs.

- Terry Valentine.



    

                   

- Good to see you.

- Nice to meet you.



    

                   

Shit.



    

                   

Hello?



    

                   

Hey.



    

                   

No, it's Crestview Terrace,

not Crestview Place.



    

                   

Yeah.



    

                   

There's three different ways up the

hill. The best way is Loma Vista.



    

                   

Loma Linda. Yeah.



    

                   

Yes. Okay.



    

                   

All right, bye.



    

                   

Well, it's the record business,

what can you say?



    

                   

- It's the "Hi, how are you?" crowd.

- It's got to be done, yeah.



    

                   

There you are.



    

                   

You know Jim.



    

                   

- Of course.

- Hi, how are you?



    

                   

Blimey!



    

                   

Yeah, if you can afford

a house like this, you buy one.



    

                   

What are we standing on?



    

                   

Trust.



    

                   

You know,



    

                   

you could see the sea

out there if you could see it.



    

                   

Could you?



    

                   

Where are you going?



    

                   

Hello?



    

                   

Don't do it.



    

                   

You produced the first

Christopher Cross album?



    

                   

Wow, that record changed my life!



    

                   

What was he like?

Just give me a scoop. A nugget.



    

                   

Basically I just do the contracts.



    

                   

That's it? Just the contracts?



    

                   

Bring the motor round.

Bang out in front.



    

                   

Point it downhill.



    

                   

As I was turning into Seward, I saw

this old guy locking up a car.



    

                   

And it was so unmarked it was

marked. I mean, it was just...



    

                   

Excuse me. Can I help you?



    

                   

Go! Go!



    

                   

Sir, are you okay?



    

                   

Steady on, Fangio.



    

                   

You "steady on", man!

What the fuck did you do?



    

                   

You didn't cap the guy, did you?



    

                   

Did you?



    

                   

No, too easy.



    

                   

Too easy?



    

                   

He's got to know why.



    

                   

You think a guy like that ever will?



    

                   

Down!



    

                   

What are we doing?



    

                   

Fuck!



    

                   

Wilson! Wilson! Wilson!



    

                   

Wilson, come on, man!



    

                   

Come on, come on!



    

                   

Shit!



    

                   

You're getting me

into all this shit.



    

                   

Wilson.



    

                   

Oh, boy.



    

                   

I should have done the talking.



    

                   

Because you're

my security consultant?



    

                   

- What the fuck?

- What did you tell them?



    

                   

I told them that

a longtime employee flipped out.



    

                   

That he had drug problems and

refused counselling, which is true.



    

                   

And that he committed suicide.



    

                   

And one of the guests

tried to stop him.



    

                   

Jim, how the fuck do you stop

Gordon at four hundred pounds?



    

                   

That was good.



    

                   

Well, he's heavier than that now.



    

                   

Jenny never told you about her dad?



    

                   

Her dad? What dad?



    

                   

The one who was in prison for nine

years. He was released last month.



    

                   

Jenny's father was in prison?



    

                   

- For what?

- Armed robbery. Again.



    

                   

- Again? Oh, God.

- Yeah, he's a career criminal.



    

                   

He's on leave of absence. Get it?



    

                   

Where are you going?



    

                   

I want to find him before they do.



    

                   

Oh, man, I am fucking screwed.



    

                   

I am screwed to the wall!



    

                   

I don't suppose he entered

the country under his own name.



    

                   

Oh, give me a fucking break.

Can you do that?



    

                   

I would if I came

this far to kill someone.



    

                   

Oh, man.



    

                   

Okay.



    

                   

Not even one of your guys

should handle this.



    

                   

- What should I do? Tell them?

- No, I mean,



    

                   

I told them I didn't know

who he was. People come, people go.



    

                   

How will you find him?



    

                   

Terry, he's not James Bond.



    

                   

This is some pathetic sad sack

wandering around.



    

                   

Tell that to Gordon.



    

                   

What's England anyway?

Some rinky-dink country,



    

                   

where the cops

don't even carry guns?



    

                   

Oh, man, this is getting

all too close to me.



    

                   

You know, people close to you

keep falling into canyons.



    

                   

Now, that's brilliant.



    

                   

Hey, relax.



    

                   

I have other resources.



    

                   

I have other resources.



    

                   

No one even near to me.



    

                   

Because I am out of here.



    

                   

I'm gone.



    

                   

How do you keep getting so lucky?



    

                   

I learned how to skate

when I was a boy.



    

                   

Even after a dozen interventions,

if a person won't face up to...



    

                   

I guess not.



    

                   

Lots of people

in the music industry



    

                   

have been taken down

by doing too many...



    

                   

many...



    

                   

drugs.



    

                   

Straight rotation. Call your shots,

scratch on the eight, you lose.



    

                   

- Okay.

- I break, right?



    

                   

Yeah, break 'em up.



    

                   

He broke last time.



    

                   

What did you say?



    

                   

- He broke last time.

- Let me break.



    

                   

So what?

He loves to break.



    

                   

Look, he's all excited.



    

                   

I see that.

I don't give a shit



    

                   

if he does or not.

It's my break.



    

                   

- I won the break.

- "I won the break."



    

                   

- What the fuck is that?

- I'm kidding.



    

                   

- Are these your quarters?

- Yeah.



    

                   

- What the fuck is he doing?

- I don't know, man.



    

                   

Go fuck yourself!

And take Mr. Goodwrench with you.



    

                   

I'd tell you to blow it out your ass

but my dick's in the way.



    

                   

Did I cross the line?



    

                   

Does that mean you forfeit?



    

                   

- It was just a game.

- Stacy!



    

                   

Come over here.



    

                   

How's it going?



    

                   

Not bad.



    

                   

- Like to kill someone for me?

- Okay.



    

                   

Same as last time.

The rest after.



    

                   

Where do we go?



    

                   

When you find the guy, you'll know.



    

                   

What is this shit?

I do it, I don't organize it.



    

                   

I can point you, but you've got

to take it into the end zone.



    

                   

This bum's a hit-and-run gunman. I

doubt he's cruising the Polo Lounge.



    

                   

This is un-fucking-professional.



    

                   

Well, a successful man

like me has limitations.



    

                   

I lose touch at the street level,

so I have to depend on a smart boy



    

                   

like you who's closer

to the nitty-gritty.



    

                   

Fuck you,

Mr. Whatever-your-name is!



    

                   

This is a lifestyle I embrace.



    

                   

That's why I'm letting you

take care of this.



    

                   

I'm the one

with appearances to maintain.



    

                   

But who gives a shit about you?



    

                   

Not even God.



    

                   

Get it done.



    

                   

Get a tie.



    

                   

- How much?

- Five grand.



    

                   

Got half in my pocket.



    

                   

- Making trouble for someone?

- Yup.



    

                   

Which kind?



    

                   

The forever kind.



    

                   

- She may not know the English dude,

- I don't know,



    

                   

- She was tight with his daughter.

- But that don't mean nothing.



    

                   

She's nice looking.



    

                   

- So what?

- I just said she's nice looking.



    

                   

And I said, "So what?"

Is she happier?



    

                   

- What do you mean, "happier"?

- Happier than any other asshole?



    

                   

I don't know.

I never met her.



    

                   

What is this shit? They should make

shows about people's daily lives.



    

                   

"Sick Old Man"

or "Skinny Little Weakling."



    

                   

"Big Fat Guy". Wouldn't you watch

a show called "Big Fat Guy"?



    

                   

Extras?

Oh, excuse me, "background artists".



    

                   

"Hi, Mom, Dad.



    

                   

Yeah, Hollywood's great.

I'm still a loser."



    

                   

I wonder

what it's like to have tits.



    

                   

Jesus, are you gay enough?

"Hello, Studio City!"



    

                   

Fag.



    

                   

Look at this guy.

Yeah, they need that right away.



    

                   

What's the smartest thing

to come out of a woman's mouth?



    

                   

Einstein's cock.



    

                   

That little kid's kind of cute,

though, you know?



    

                   

A little young, but...



    

                   

You want to run it with me now?



    

                   

Did you forget your words?



    

                   

I got him.

Step aside, ma'am.



    

                   

Come with us.



    

                   

Wasn't half crowded

in the back of that car.



    

                   

Drug Enforcement?



    

                   

Narcs?



    

                   

I don't suppose you prefer

a steady income.



    

                   

I've got a steady income.

I'm on the dole.



    

                   

A leech

on the welfare state as well.



    

                   

You don't miss a trick.



    

                   

Just a fiddle.



    

                   

They've got me down

as an immigrant with five kids.



    

                   

Jenny spoke fondly

of her imaginary siblings.



    

                   

Do you even remember

the last time you saw her?



    

                   

I remember every time I saw her.



    

                   

I watched her grow up



    

                   

in increments.



    

                   

She said

you were a ghost in her life,



    

                   

Daddy, the friendly ghost,



    

                   

She twigged when she was   or  

that I wasn't in the Royal Marines.



    

                   

Or playing lago

in some world tour of Othello.



    

                   

Freedom is a word I rarely use



    

                   

without thinking,



    

                   

without thinking,



    

                   

of the time,



    

                   

of the time



    

                   

when I've been loved,



    

                   

She was always threatening me,



    

                   

Can you imagine?



    

                   

"If you're naughty, Dad, I'll put

the law on you. Promise".



    

                   

She didn't want me

to get sent down again.



    

                   

And if she got wind

that I was planning something,



    

                   

"I'll shop you, Dad.

I promise I'll shop you".



    

                   

I can see her picking up the phone:

"Look, I'm calling the Old Bill."



    

                   

It became a joke between us, only...



    

                   

It wasn't really,



    

                   

She would never have turned you in.



    

                   

Not in a million years.



    

                   

I know that.

But as time went on,



    

                   

well, in ever decreasing circles,



    

                   

the joke wore off.



    

                   

She had a feeling

about this last job.



    

                   

How long I'd get banged up for.



    

                   

Said she wouldn't

be around this time,



    

                   

when I got out.



    

                   

And she wasn't,



    

                   

How you doing then?

You all right?



    

                   

Now, squire,

I can see you're the guv'nor here.



    

                   

I'm on your manor now, so don't

get your knickers in a twist.



    

                   

Whatever this bollocks is between

you and that slag Valentine,



    

                   

it's got nothing

to do with me. All right, mate?



    

                   

I'll explain it to you. When I

was in prison the second time...



    

                   

No, tell a lie, third stretch.

Yeah, third.



    

                   

There was this screw

what really had it in for me.



    

                   

And that geezer was top of my list.



    

                   

Two years after I got sprung,

I sees him in Holland Park,



    

                   

on a bench feeding bloody pigeons.



    

                   

There was no one about. I could

have gone up and snapped his neck.



    

                   

Wallop! But I left it.



    

                   

I could have knobbed him,

but I didn't.



    

                   

What I thought I wanted, I didn't.



    

                   

I was thinking about something else.



    

                   

I didn't give a toss.

It didn't matter.



    

                   

This berk on the bench

wasn't worth my time.



    

                   

It meant sod all in the end.



    

                   

You got to choose

when to do something or let it go.



    

                   

When it matters and when it don't.



    

                   

Bide your time. Prison

teaches you that if nothing else.



    

                   

Bide your time

and everything becomes clear.



    

                   

And you can act accordingly.



    

                   

There's one thing

I don't understand.



    

                   

The thing I don't understand is

every motherfucking word you say.



    

                   

Do you know what I reckon?



    

                   

You and I are after the same thing,



    

                   

but for different reasons.



    

                   

- And what would that be?

- The reasons?



    

                   

Start with the thing.



    

                   

I would guess

that whatever you're after,



    

                   

involves

a considerable sum of money.



    

                   

And that's not

what lights your fire?



    

                   

In the past, granted, I have been

known to redistribute wealth.



    

                   

But no, I'm after another kind of



    

                   

satisfaction.



    

                   

Know what I mean?



    

                   

You're not from around here,

are you?



    

                   

You don't carry any kind of I.D.



    

                   

I.D.? No. When your chaps

went through my pockets,



    

                   

they found nothing.



    

                   

Your connection

to Terry Valentine?



    

                   

My daughter was living

with him when she died.



    

                   

I imagine about the same time

as whatever the deal was



    

                   

that Terry Valentine

grafted you out of your share of.



    

                   

When I say "grafted", I...



    

                   

You think Valentine

screwed me out of some deal?



    

                   

It wouldn't surprise me. He's about

as straight as a dog's hind leg.



    

                   

What could this deal have been,



    

                   

to set in motion

such an unfortunate chain of events?



    

                   

Could have been anything.



    

                   

A shitload of heroin

imported from somewhere or other.



    

                   

The usual scumbags involved.

But the thing about scumbags is



    

                   

no matter what they do with drugs,

it's harder to move the money.



    

                   

The money.



    

                   

In my line of work,

you follow the money.



    

                   

Because you can't hide the money,

only disguise it. So what do you do?



    

                   

Find some rich fool to bank the cash

coming in, make it look legitimate,



    

                   

in exchange for skimming

a percentage off the top.



    

                   

Maybe as much as

a million dollars commission.



    

                   

Rich fool

who overextended himself over time,



    

                   

in danger of

not being so rich anymore.



    

                   

But I can't be sure.

Can't prove anything.



    

                   

Anything at all.



    

                   

What was

your daughter's involvement?



    

                   

That's what I want to know.



    

                   

I was hoping you might.



    

                   

The security guy that works for

Valentine and those creeps after you



    

                   

I shouldn't wonder.

Yeah, must have done.



    

                   

He's a slippery fellow.



    

                   

But he keeps his hands clean,

and Valentine's.



    

                   

Darn it.



    

                   

There go my slippery hands again.



    

                   

There was an incident

in downtown L, A, a few days ago



    

                   

that may have spurred

this most recent



    

                   

activity. But you know

nothing about that, right?



    

                   

Thank you.



    

                   

Your daughter had a fondness

for dangerous men.



    

                   

Shame about the money going into

Valentine's pocket and not yours.



    

                   

I don't give a shit about the money.



    

                   

Personally, I prefer the heroin.



    

                   

See, crooks move faster

than the system,



    

                   

so if we're going

to clean up the neighborhood,



    

                   

we don't have time to wait for

search warrants and trials,



    

                   

Procedure becomes whatever



    

                   

you got to do on the day.



    

                   

Well, cheers, mate.



    

                   

Go with God.



    

                   

Yeah.



    

                   

I was coming back from a motorcycle

classic in Sturgis, South Dakota,



    

                   

on my motorcycle.

On U.S. Highway   .



    

                   

Just outside Spotted Horse,



    

                   

I ran into a deer.

I had no chance.



    

                   

Even though the highway people

had mowed the sides,



    

                   

they couldn't mow

around the culverts,



    

                   

and the doe jumped right

in front of the bike.



    

                   

I had a chance to say one word,

"Fuck!", and then I hit it.



    

                   

I know this: If a bullet

has my name on it,



    

                   

I won't be calling for my mother.



    

                   

But the only reason

I'm alive and telling this story,



    

                   

is because of the big FL front end

and that solid tire on my Fat Boy.



    

                   

- Oh, your Fat Boy.

- Yeah,



    

                   

exactly. I was wearing the Fat Boy.



    

                   

I saw the ground, and I thought,

"Put it down."



    

                   

And I just rode this bike down

into the ground.



    

                   

You told me this story before.



    

                   

- I did?

- Yeah.



    

                   

I'm sorry.



    

                   

- I'll hear it again, if you want.

- Oh, you're sweet.



    

                   

God, you are wonderful.



    

                   

What's wrong?



    

                   

Nothing.



    

                   

It must be hard to pass

on this road.



    

                   

Oh, the freeway's faster,

but it lacks a certain



    

                   

majesty.



    

                   

It's just the car behind us

has been following us for a while.



    

                   

I sure hope so.



    

                   

Where is Big Sur?



    

                   

Up the coast,



    

                   

How far?



    

                   

I don't know,



    

                   

A few hours, I guess, Why?



    

                   

That's where he scarpered,



    

                   

- How do you know?

- Bloke told me,



    

                   

You shouldn't go back to your place,

Not till this is settled,



    

                   

What's a sliding scale?



    

                   

A sliding scale?

Well, a sliding scale, um,,,



    

                   

If we were in a union,



    

                   

we'd all make different rates

based on the time we served,



    

                   

- So since he's been...

- That's not a sliding scale.



    

                   

- What?

- That's not a sliding scale.



    

                   

- Well, what's a sliding scale?

- A sliding scale is...



    

                   

The scale is, you know, you start

off somewhere and you move up.



    

                   

Or you move down.

That's a sliding scale.



    

                   

- He doesn't know what it is.

- You move down?



    

                   

Dogshit cues!



    

                   

I could break a branch off a tree

that's straighter than this.



    

                   

Stacy!



    

                   

Go ahead, break 'em up.



    

                   

I just got chewed out.

You fucking believe that?



    

                   

- What does he want from us?

- That's what I said.



    

                   

He didn't tell us there were

Negroes following the guy too.



    

                   

Something's on, man.



    

                   

What?



    

                   

Let's just say I know more

about Mr. Avery than he thinks I do.



    

                   

- I got a guy on the inside.

- Who's that?



    

                   

That putz Tom from Seattle.



    

                   

- Tom Johanssen?

- Yeah, from Seattle.



    

                   

- I sent him to Avery.

- And what did he say?



    

                   

They're taking a road trip

up the coast.



    

                   

He and Avery and a couple of guys,



    

                   

Should we hit

this English guy again?



    

                   

Yeah, if he hasn't

gotten whacked in bucktown,



    

                   

we might still have our aces.



    

                   

I just can't figure out

who this guy is.



    

                   

A courier?

A buyer? A seller?



    

                   

Anyway,



    

                   

Avery wants him.



    

                   

Those jigs wanted him.



    

                   

You can bet your ass

there's a briefcase somewhere.



    

                   

A briefcase?



    

                   

What's in it?



    

                   

Drugs, cash, whatever.

Both, if we're lucky.



    

                   

And while they're all fucking

each other over, we move right in.



    

                   

Can I ask you a question?



    

                   

Another one?



    

                   

Yeah, like, do you have any friends?



    

                   

Yeah.



    

                   

You could call them that, I suppose.



    

                   

Yeah, down the boozer.

Saturday night. Meet the chaps.



    

                   

Friends and colleagues.



    

                   

A lot of them are gone,



    

                   

The old faces,



    

                   

Don't know where,



    

                   

Different characters nowadays,

Different



    

                   

assumptions,

You don't know where you are,



    

                   

The last load of friends I had



    

                   

turned out

not to be my friends after all.



    

                   

Elaine, you ever understand

half the shit this guy is saying?



    

                   

No, but I know what he means.



    

                   

You know,

I should be in Paris or Kurdistan.



    

                   

He'd find you in Kurdistan.



    

                   

Try London. He has a history

of being apprehended there.



    

                   

You're a font of optimism.



    

                   

What else

have your techies come up with?



    

                   

Terry, we're trying

to hunt him down,



    

                   

and I've got my foot soldiers

out there. What more can I do?



    

                   

And if he comes here?



    

                   

And what if he does?



    

                   

Yeah.



    

                   

You don't want

to tell me about this?



    

                   

About being here,

with the bodyguards and everything.



    

                   

I don't suppose you've ever had

anything like enemies?



    

                   

Well, I never went for

the cheerleading squad,



    

                   

and I never stole

anyone's boyfriend that I know of.



    

                   

So... no, I'd like to think not.



    

                   

You never will.



    

                   

Come on now. I don't want anybody

limiting my possibilities.



    

                   

That won't happen either.



    

                   

This is...



    

                   

This is just a precaution.



    

                   

I'm sorry.

I didn't mean to drag you along.



    

                   

I needed you to, um...



    

                   

- I just don't...

- You don't want to be alone?



    

                   

You see?



    

                   

You understand that

about me already.



    

                   

Where is she?



    

                   

Terry scattered her ashes



    

                   

from a boat,



    

                   

He buries her at a private service.

Private for who? Him? Shit.



    

                   

Jenny lived at the beach

when she moved here.



    

                   

She loved the ocean,



    

                   

She was from an island.



    

                   

Shit.



    

                   

Are you throwing the shells

back in there?



    

                   

Feel better?



    

                   

Yeah.



    

                   

It's amazing here, I went out

last night, We went to this,,,



    

                   

We went to

this Italian restaurant and,,,



    

                   

Check the news.



    

                   

- Where's the remote?

- I don't know.



    

                   

Fuck.



    

                   

Where the hell is Rick?



    

                   

Shut off all the inside lights.

And stay away from the windows.



    

                   

- Have you heard of knocking?

- Come with me.



    

                   

- What's going on?

- Now.



    

                   

- Look at that?

- What?



    

                   

That shadow.



    

                   

I don't see it.



    

                   

I thought I told you



    

                   

to stay away from the windows.



    

                   

Come on, everybody.

In here.



    

                   

Go on, behind the counter.



    

                   

Let's go. Behind the counter.



    

                   

Terry.



    

                   

What's going on here?



    

                   

- We think somebody's here.

- What? We think?



    

                   

We can't find Rick and, uh...



    

                   

Larry.



    

                   

- Did you call the cops?

- No.



    

                   

- Why not?

- Because I'm handling it.



    

                   

You guys are nuts!

I'm calling the cops.



    

                   

Mr. Avery.



    

                   

Watch my back.



    

                   

Son of a bitch.



    

                   

- Fuck.

- What is it?



    

                   

I think Avery's down.



    

                   

Fuck this!



    

                   

Don't!

I'm a friend of Stacy's!



    

                   

Fuck you, Tom.



    

                   

Stay there.



    

                   

What?



    

                   

Where are you going?



    

                   

Jesus!



    

                   

Tell me.



    

                   

Tell me about Jenny.



    

                   

Tell me about Jenny.



    

                   

Tell me about Jenny!



    

                   

I needed money.



    

                   

I would have given her

anything she wanted but



    

                   

she found out about my deal.



    

                   

She tried to stop me. She said

she was going to turn me in.



    

                   

She was going to call the cops.



    

                   

I couldn't stop it,



    

                   

It had happened. It was over.



    

                   

She was going to call the cops,



    

                   

She meant it,



    

                   

She had the phone in her hand,



    

                   

She was going to call the cops,



    

                   

She meant it,



    

                   

I couldn't stop it,



    

                   

I couldn't do anything,



    

                   

You're English.



    

                   

That's right.



    

                   

I can never decide what's better.



    

                   

Leaving home or coming back,



    

                   

I prefer staying home, me,



    

                   

Oh, so you're a reluctant traveler,



    

                   

Got called out to L, A,

unexpected-like,



    

                   

Do a job of work,



    

                   

No rest for the wicked,



    

                   

Been away a lot,



    

                   

Where else?



    

                   

Out on an oil rig

in the North Sea,



    

                   

Nine years,



    

                   

Nine years? Wow!

Is that legal?



    

                   

Well, time off for good behavior.



    

                   

I shouldn't have been there,



    

                   

It was those other lads what should

have been there in my place,



    

                   

Then just when

I finished my nine years,



    

                   

my contract...



    

                   

Wallop!

I had to bugger off to the States.



    

                   

Sounds like you need a rest.



    

                   

Yeah, could be.



    

                   

Freedom is a word I rarely use



    

                   

without thinking,



    

                   

without thinking



    

                   

of the time,



    

                   

of the time



    

                   

when I was loved,



    

                   

Very good.



    

                   

- Yeah?

- Yeah.



    

                   

- Getting better, aren't I?

- You are.







  

 
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