Murder By Numbers Script - Dialogue Transcript

Voila! Finally, the Murder By Numbers script is here for all you quotes spouting fans of the Sandra Bullock, Ryan Gosling, and Michael Pitt movie.  This script is a transcript that was painstakingly transcribed using the screenplay and/or viewings of Murder By Numbers. 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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Murder By Numbers Script


  

              Should we say it one last time?

            One cannot live fully without embracing suicide and crime.

            Say it.

            A pact made with relentless fire that requires that some live...

            ...others die.

            On three.

            One...

            ...two...

            ...three!

            Each of us has within us a weak aspect...

            ...eager to give up freedom to be dominated.

            But we also have a will that desires freedom, that insists...

            ...on deciding for ourselves, each of us individually...

            ...what is good...

            ...and what is evil.

            Are there any questions?

            Doesn't anyone want to challenge Justin's thesis?

            Do you all submit to this Darwinian struggle of egos?

            I got a question.

            Mr. Haywood, you're awake!

            Let's hear it.

            What's a dork like you know about power?

            What would an ass like you know about philosophy?

            Keep it civil.

            Are you talking about crime?

            You should wake up more often.

            -What about it? -All freedom risks crime.

            Freedom is crime. It thinks of itself and not of the group.

            -Thank you, Justin. Very daring. -Thank you.

            For those of you interested in the source of his report...

            ...take a look at Nietzsche.

            You really need to get laid, Bonaparte.

            Hey, Justin.

            -Remember me? -What do you want?

            I want to blow your brains out.

            And I'll make it look like a suicide.

            Everyone would believe that you killed yourself.

            You won't get away with it.

            Your shoe prints are unique. They'd be traced back to you.

            The fibers on your shirt are all over me.

            Your hair too.

            It's called transference.

            More importantly, your fingerprints...

            ...on my neck...

            ...where you touched me.

            -You can't get them off skin. -You can with a Magna-Brush...

            ...or a fingerprint cam or an iodine gun and silver transfer sheets.

            You don't have the discipline to commit a murder.

            Is that right?

            Let's see.

            Bang!

            You're dead.

            What took you so long? I've been waiting.

            No, I have something better.

            -What is it? -Absinthe. Wormwood-infused alcohol.

            The molecular structure is almost identical to tetrahedral chlorine.

            Tetra what?

            The active ingredient in marijuana.

            Where did you get it?

            Poets drank it for inspiration.

            It's been illegal since the turn of the century.

            Even better.

            To the systematic derangement of our senses.

            Forget the senses.

            Let's derange the world.

            We will.

            When?

            Soon.

            What about tonight?

            -What about right now? -I have a biology--

            Fuck your biology!

            You always have excuses.

             Let's forget it.

              We've been planning this for months.

              I'm sick of planning. That's all it is with you.

              It's talk and plans and dreams. You're a jerk-off.

              So jerk off.

              Richard, wait.

              Just be patient.

              Here comes The Hyena.

              Why can't I go inside the perimeter?

              I told them not to let anybody in.

              It's your first homicide. I didn't want you stepping on your tongue.

              Take this.

              -What is it? -Important tool. Hey, boys!

              Snack time! Set up a staging area.

              This place will be crawling with people...

              ...including our chief.

              -Rod? -Yeah, Rod is not a cop.

              Darnell, get out of my crime scene! Come on!

              Sorry, Cassie.

              There's only one way into a crime scene.

              Put your foot where mine goes and nowhere else.

              Ready?

              Ever do this in vice?

              No.

              Right there.

              Looks like some kind of boot.

              What's that smell like?

              Smells like vomit.

              That's what I thought. Bag some for the lab.

              -What's the matter? -Nothing.

              -Notice the hemorrhaging? -She was strangled.

              Finger-shaped marks around the neck.

              Look at this.

              Clean cut.

              -Trophy? -That'd be my guess.

              Defensive wounds.

              She put up a fight.

              Good for you.

              This is a secondary crime scene. Why?

              This wound would produce lots of blood. There's very little here.

              What about these?

              -Piquerism. -Pre or postmortem?

              Post, no blood.

              Not bad, vice.

              Probably aced your detective's exam.

              The wind is picking up, we'll lose evidence.

              Hold on to everything we find.

              -Any idea who she is? -No. No car, no l.D.

              Jane Doe.

              Hey, Bonaparte.

              What's the matter?

              Miss Mills?

              Time's up. Put your pens down.

              Exchange your test with a neighbor.

              Number    is C...

              ..."Burnt Norton."

              I suppose you find it funny.

              What?

              Me flunking a pop quiz.

              You didn't flunk. You got     out of   .

              Please pass the tests forward.

              Wait up, I want to talk to you.

              -Why did you do that? -I have motives.

              Like what?

              I need your help for my physics midterm.

              Why me?

              Because you're a genius, okay?

              I live at        Chandler.

              Can you remember that? Around  ?

              Hi, Lisa.

              -This friend-- -Turn right.

              -It's right here. -A houseboat. Neat.

              Neat indeed.

              I like it out here. Not too many people.

              Thanks. See you tomorrow.

              -You gonna see me to the door? -Of course.

              You made detective in four years?

              -Must be smarter than you look. -Thank you.

              It'll only get worse, I warn you.

              -You been talking to the boys? -I heard a few things.

              They tell you why I was called The Hyena?

              -Why? -Female hyenas have a mock penis.

              -Draw your own conclusions. -Does that bother you?

              I just wear loose slacks. It's really not a problem.

              See you later.

              No prints. The killer must have worn gloves.

              -So it's not a husband or boyfriend. -Why?

              You don't use gloves to kill your wife.

              Unless you've thought about it.

              Missing ring finger. Ritual? Serial killer?

              -Maybe a comment on matrimony. -A negative one.

              Maybe we should investigate every bad marriage in the county.

              -Why don't you get on that? -Let's start with you.

              -Ever been married? -Nope.

              What's this?

              An old murder case I was involved in.

              The guy's up for parole, they want me to testify.

              What do we have on Jane Doe?

              I'm checking missing persons nationwide.

              Run her prints, have an artist do a sketch.

              I got it.

              Bonaparte! I didn't think you'd show. Come in.

              Who did these? They're quite good.

              Thank you.

              -You did them? -Don't look so surprised.

              I modeled for them too.

              Bonaparte, you're blushing.

              Why do you call me that?

              Ever take a career aptitude test?

              No.

              If you ever did, they'd recommend you a career as a dictator.

              Why?

              Who would listen to me?

              Where's your physics book?

              You're overfeeding that thing. It'll get as fat as you are.

              I hope this is better than that other stuff.

              It's KGB.

              For $    it better put me on the moon.

              You'll be totally satisfied, I guarantee it.

              Money back?

              Come on, can't we cut a deal?

              -You don't want it? -I want it.

              Richie Rich.

              -I hate it when you call me that. -It's a deal.

              Bring me a couple pigtailed cheerleaders...

              ...then I give it to you free.

              -How can I trust that? -I love this part.

              Can I just get the product already?

              Check this out.

              -Come on-- -You'll get it. Hang on.

              Listen to her. She loves it.

              We got our Jane Doe.

              Her name was Olivia Lake. She missed three days of work.

              Her supervisor found the place like this.

              What do we know about the supervisor?

              Married, two kids, solid alibi.

              Maybe she caught somebody in the middle of a     and he panicked?

              And what, took the body with him?

              Where did these mud prints come from?

              There's a planting bed out here.

              Looks dry as a bone.

              Maybe she watered the lawn.

              We got a time of death?

              Based on stomach content, between   and     Thursday night.

              How about  :  ?

              Can we come in?

              Let the games begin.

              Sam Kennedy, AI Swanson.

              New assistant D.A. and former member of our department.

              Nice to meet you. Miss Mayweather, always a pleasure.

              Heard you finally passed the bar. Did they make it true or false?

              She hasn't lost her sting.

              -What are you doing here? -Staying informed.

              Really? Sam, please keep him informed.

              Thank you.

              What do we got here?

              Sorry.

              -Can I have you sign off? -Okay.

              Sam, it's me. I'll be a little late. Why don't you get started?

              Looks like a body dump.

              Jesus, she's alive!

              Nice detective work.

              How'd you find me?

              Rule one: Talk to the neighbors.

              You said a little late, and it's been three hours.

              This about that D.A., Swanson?

              That asshole? No.

              -He seemed okay. -Yeah, well, try dating him.

              He got rough with me, so I broke his nose with a cat.

              A cat?

              Well, a ceramic cat.

              No, thanks.

              -Good. Then you can walk me home. -Sure.

              Thank you.

              Sit down.

              I should get going.

              What's the rush?

              Can I ask you a personal question?

              I can hardly wait.

              How did you get into this work? Why homicide?

              Someone I knew was murdered, and I got interested.

              -Really? -No.

              I'm just bullshitting you.

              It's just the kind of crap people like to hear.

              Wait.

              What are you doing?

              It's called sex. It's fun, you should try it.

              We gotta work together. This is a bad idea.

              Don't worry, I won't get possessive.

              Wait.

              -Why are you doing this? -Because I want to.

              What about what I want?

              What do you want?

              -Right now? -Yeah.

              This.

              Wait. Slow down.

              No, no, leave that on. Just that. Please.

              Sure.

              What's the matter?

              -You gotta get up, you gotta go. -Why?

              Because I gotta get some sleep.

              -Can we sleep together? -Bed's too small.

              -No, it's not. -Come on, you gotta go.

              Jesus!

              I'll see you tomorrow. Good night.

              The evidence is so tiny, you wouldn't recognize it.

              A few red and yellow carpet fibers, some hair.

              That's it.

              The fibers will be tested to find generic and subgeneric classes...

              ...then compared to a database for the manufacturer.

              Fibers consistent with a mass-produced variety, made in Denver.

              Distributed in the United States under several names.

              -No help. -Same with the red fibers.

              Several trilobal nylon fibers...

              ...along with other fibers will be matched with a brand.

              It's sold by Hanover Sampson for several discount stores.

              That narrows it down.

              They sold       in that color last year.

              Examination of the cuticle, cortex and medulla of the hair...

              ...will reveal them to be human.

              Two brown human hairs. Definitely not the victim's.

              All but one.

              At first, it will baffle them.

              One hair of nonhuman origin, scale matches Cynocephalus maimon.

              It's a freaking baboon hair.

              No fingerprints, no murder weapon. They have their work cut out for them.

              That's what they're paid for.

              Coroner said strangulation was slow. Perhaps the victim was being tortured.

              The postmortem stab wounds barely broke the surface.

              Okay, that's it.

              They'll decide that, given the sloppy nature of the crime scene...

              ...the postmortem mutilation...

              ...the profile will be that of a disorganized offender.

              Poor social skills.

              Nocturnal by nature.

              Probably into pornography.

              Intelligent, but uneducated.

              Lives alone, few relations with women.

              Attack was spontaneous.

              Unplanned.

              He didn't drive down close to the dump spot. That is planning.

              But he left the footprints.

              No evidence will lead to the suspect, but they'll damn him.

              -When will they have a suspect? -They're eating out of our hands.

              Poor Ray. He'll never see it coming.

              Cassie, look at this.

              Vigi boots. What the hell are Vigi boots?

              There he is, in the black coat.

              Don't let him charm you too much.

              Richard Haywood?

              Cassie Mayweather, Sam Kennedy, police. Can we talk to you?

              Yeah, sure.

              You're willing to speak without an attorney?

              Sure.

              Where were you last Thursday night?

              -What is this about? -Answer the question.

              I was cramming for this calculus midterm. I was with a study group.

              -How long? -From about   until   Friday morning.

              -That's quite a cram session. -Yeah, well....

              I got kind of a spotty record, and I gotta keep my grades up for college.

              Can you give us the names of the other people there?

              Sure. Am I in some kind of trouble?

              You seem very particular about your appearance.

              Thanks.

              I like your outfit too.

              She looks good. It's, like, feminine...

              ...but it still manages to be professional.

              Is that like a pleather?

              Kmart.

              We're interested in your shoes.

              Let's talk about these.

              -Vigis? -You own a pair of these?

              You bought them at Scarlatti's, downtown Santa Barbara, for $   .  ...

              ...on your platinum bankcard.

              Size    D.

              This can't be about my shoes.

              Why not?

              This is about my shoes?

              You got me freaked out like I did something.

              Did you find them or what?

              I reported them stolen three weeks ago.

              I even filed a report with the front office.

              Did you find the shoes or not?

              I think you should tell me what's going on.

              Because I'm spinning out here.

              Shoe prints matching these were found at a murder scene last week.

              -The Covington woman? -That's right.

              You think the person who stole my shoes committed this murder?

              I'll cooperate in any way I can.

              Any idea who stole your boots?

              No, I don't. I wish I did now, though.

              -Any enemies at school? -Well, it's high school.

              What does that mean?

              Not to sound arrogant, but there are people who envy me.

              -Really? -Yeah.

              Why would they do that?

              Well, let's just say that I'm very fortunate...

              ...and that I've been blessed in many ways.

              -Must be nice being you, Richard. -I got no complaints.

              It all checked out. He filed a report about the boots.

              And made a big fuss to the principal.

              Yeah, I bet he was a pain in the ass.

              -She didn't say that. -No, believe me. I hate kids like that.

              Like what?

              What about the study session?

              Six kids were at his house with him from   or  :   Thursday evening...

              ...till   a.m. Friday. I talked to all of them.

              He was there except for     minutes...

              ...he went to an ATM to get cash for a pizza.

              -Did you check that out? -Yeah, he withdrew $   at  :   .

              Get that enhanced.

              -Why? -Because I can't see his face.

              It's him.

              I can't see his face.

              -You really think he's involved? -I don't know.

              But something's not right with that kid.

              Fifteen minutes. It doesn't give him enough time.

              He has to drive to Covington, kill her, dump her body, get back.

              He'd need at least an hour.

              -They questioned me. -And?

              -It was so cool! -Did they go for the shoes?

              They grabbed it. I was so good. I really was. Listen.

              This can't be about my shoes.

              -Why not? -Did you find them?

              You sure they didn't suspect anything? You didn't overdo it?

              A little bit. I overdid it a little bit.

              You think the person who stole my shoes committed this murder?

              I want you to know I'm gonna cooperate in any way I can.

              Meet me at the bluff tonight.

              I can't.

              -Why not? -I have something to do.

              -Like what? -I'll tell you later. I should....

              -Know who his father is? -I wanna search his house.

              Lawrence Haywood. He built the mall.

              -Big campaign contributor? -That's right.

              And I won't fuck with that guy on this.

              I've grown much too fond of my own ass to do anything that goddamned stupid!

              And what is your problem?

              Where are you on this, Sam?

              -I don't care who his father is. -I don't mean that.

              Do you think we have enough to go after him?

              No. And if we go in too soon, we could burn the whole case.

              Really? And why is that, vice?

              No judge would sign a warrant based on what you have.

              Shut up, Swanson!

              -This kid with his attitude-- -Attitude isn't a crime.

              -It's an indicator-- -But he doesn't fit the profile.

              The profile doesn't fit!

              The killer was smart. He didn't drive to the site, he used Richard's boots...

              -...but the attack was unplanned? -But if we push too soon--

              -Whose case is this? -Just calm down.

              No, I've been trying to find Olivia's killer, busting my ass--

              -Who's Olivia? -The victim.

              -Is this still my case? -It's a coordinated effort!

              You're getting way too involved in this, Cassie.

              -Cassie! -What?

              -You called her by her first name. -What?

              You said, "I've been trying to find Olivia's killer."

              No, I didn't.

              Did l?

              You're supposed to be identifying with the killer, not the victim.

              Remember that?

              You don't have any witnesses or fingerprints or powder burns....

              I almost forgot.

              Tobias always kept a gun, right here. Loaded.

              Can I come in?

              Listen, I'm sorry I didn't back you up in there.

              I'm a big girl. You said what you thought, right?

              -Yes, but-- -Then you did the right thing.

              -We can't just bust in there-- -I know. I heard you.

              -So can you get out of the way? -Know what your problem is?

              Yeah, you're blocking Matlock. Out of the way. Please.

              I'm trying to apologize here.

              All right, apology accepted.

              You want to sit down?

              You want to have a cookie?

              -Hi. -Hi.

              -What's going on? -We're making up.

              -We're still friends, right? -What's this?

              I don't know, let's find out.

              -We do this and you throw me out again? -Or you stay. Or you leave.

              I don't know. It's hard to tell in advance.

              What do you want? You want promises? You want a ring?

              -Is that what you want? A ring? -Don't!

              Look, it's not just about sex, okay? I really respect you as a person.

              Is that what you--?

              Why do you always want to hurt people?

              I wouldn't say always. It kind of happens sometimes.

              You're so good at breaking other people down...

              ...but you never stop and look at yourself.

              -Where are you taking me? -No peeking, we're almost there.

              Step up.

              Okay.

              Open your eyes.

              My God, Justin, this is beautiful!

              Did you grow these?

              What happened? You're different.

              Yeah, I am different.

              Mayweather.

              Collect call from an inmate in a corrections facility.

              -The name of the inmate is.... -Carl Hudson.

              If you wish to accept, press--

              -I do not wish to accept any calls-- -Cassie?

              -What? -It's Sam.

              Hi, I'm sorry. What can I do for you?

              -Remember the puke at the body dump? -Yeah.

              Most of it was unidentifiable...

              ...but Kevin managed to isolate some partially digested eggs.

              -Fish eggs. -Caviar?

              Apparently so. I've compiled a list of the local vendors selling caviar.

              -What was his name? -Richard Haywood.

              Miles Haywood's kid? He came in once around Christmas.

              Not last week? Thursday?

              I rarely see any high-school kids here.

              -Except Justin Pendleton. -Who?

              He used to come with his father, but his parents split.

              Now he comes in alone. He's a senior at Jefferson.

              Richard's a senior at Jefferson. Justin eats alone?

              He always brings a book. He's a bit of a loner.

              But a brilliant kid, you should hear him talk.

              When was he in here last?

              The  th.  :   p.m.

              -What time did he leave? -About  .

              Do you know what he ate?

              Justin?

              Cassie Mayweather, with the San Benito Police.

              -You're a police officer? -I'm a homicide investigator.

              -Can I ask you a couple questions? -Sure.

              You had dinner at Maison Saint Croix on the  th?

              -Maison Saint Croix. -Thank you.

              The  th was a Thursday, and they had a caviar appetizer. Did you have it?

              Yeah, I might have. Can you tell me what happened?

              -Do you know Richard Haywood? -Everyone knows him.

              Is he involved in this?

              -Is he a friend of yours? -No.

              I mean, I tutored him for his bio SAT last year, but we're not....

              We don't have much in common.

              -Are you in his study group? -No. What study group?

              When you left the restaurant, did you take leftovers?

              You didn't give your friends at the study group leftovers?

              Look, I told you, I barely know him. He makes fun of me in class.

              -Why would he do that? -Because...

              ...he's like that. He makes fun of everyone.

              He's one of the cool kids.

              What makes him cool?

              You know, he's smart, he's rich...

              ...he's witty, and everyone likes him.

              And you don't.

              Yeah, I knew kids like that. Superstars of high school.

              Five years from now, nobody will care who they are.

              Well, Richard will always be cool.

              His daddy's rich and I hate to admit it, but he's actually smart.

              He's lazy and didn't study, but he got a      on that bio SAT.

              -It kind of spun me out. -Spinning out, huh?

              You seem to know him well.

              You can tell by his behavior in class.

              Sorry.

              Cassie, where have you been? Sam l.D. 'd the suspect.

              -Who is it? -Ask Sam. He's in charge of the case.

              S.I.D. is over there now collecting evidence.

              -Hi, Cass. -Hi.

              Look at this, sir.

              -Could be a match. -Log that.

              I want samples of fabrics, soils, any molds, plants in here and outside.

              John's found a stash of marijuana buds.

              -You mind if we smoke up while we work? -Yes, I do.

              -So who is he? -Raymond Lee Feathers.

              He's a janitor at Jefferson.

              I compiled a list of everyone who might have stolen Richard's boots.

              Then I cross-indexed that against carpet purchases and up came this.

              Apparently he sold grass to the kids at school.

              -Good work. -Thank you.

              Where is he?

              I don't know. Seems like he took off.

              -Did you run him for priors? -A couple DUls, one pot bust.

              But he hasn't shown up for work since the day we talked to Richard there.

              Did you find the boots?

              Not yet, but we may have a match on the yellow carpet fibers.

              We've nothing on the vehicle fibers till we find his car...

              ...but he's got a stash of porno films, mostly bondage...

              ...just like the profile.

              What?

              -He's not a neatness freak. -What are you saying?

              Sloppy enough to leave footprints, but smart enough to steal shoes in advance?

              -This is our guy, no question. -You find any caviar jars?

              Come on, wait a minute.

              You're ticked that I got him, aren't you?

              No. If you got him, I'm happy for you.

              After we close this case, maybe we should look for different partners.

              Might be better.

              Whatever you want.

              Good.

              -Nice work, guys. -I gotta take a piss.

              Don't worry, I won't contaminate any evidence.

              -She pees standing up, that one. -Al.

              Don't talk about her like that, please.

              You've slept with her already?

              -What? -You will. That's Cassie's m.o.

              She lets you get close, then pushes you away.

              Ask her what's wrong, she picks a fight. You're working with her...

              ...because no one else will.

              Looks like a body dump.

              Now we know where that baboon hair came from.

              It's okay.

              Hey, Lisa.

              -You want a ride? -We already did that.

              That's not what I'm talking about. I want to talk to you.

              -Want me to beg? Please. -You'll get in an accident.

              Please. I don't care.

              You make me sad. Come on.

              Come on. It's fun in here.

              Hello, Justin.

              How you doing?

              What are you--?

              What are you doing here?

              -You stood me up for that slut? -Lisa? She's not a slut.

              -Did you tell her anything about us? -Of course not.

              -Of course not. -You fuck her?

              -I was helping her with her physics. -You fucked her, and I saw you.

              We kissed.

              -You kissed. -That was it, I swear.

              Oh, Justin.

              You helped Lisa, and you didn't even get laid?

              -What a schmuck. -She's not like that.

              Bullshit. She spreads like peanut butter.

              You'd be surprised what a girl without a dad will do for male attention.

              Lisa.

              Do you hate me?

              I had to do it.

              I don't want to hurt you, but I had to show you what she's really like.

              She's not good enough for you.

              She doesn't appreciate you. She's like your mom, dad and everyone else.

              I'm the only person who really cares about you.

              I think I'm the only person who sees how incredible you really are.

              Don't go away, Justin. Come on. What we did...

              ...together...

              ...how many people have done that?

              We proved something to each other.

              We showed what we're capable of.

              There's no limits for men like us.

              Did you hear about Ray?

              They're onto him.

              Just one last thing to do and we're home free, right?

              Do we have to?

              You tell me.

              Do we have to?

            Richard?

            Is that you? Did you bring the pom-poms?

            I brought something to help you sleep.

            What the fuck?!

            My physics test. I got a B+ . You are a genius.

            Don't.

            I have something for you.

            -What is this? -You're quite the slut.

            What?

            What?!

            How long has he been here?

            Nurse on the night shift said he came in about  .

            How are you feeling?

            I'm okay.

            I'm a little sore, but....

            What are you doing here?

            I figured you'd want an immediate report.

            Yeah, I do.

            So?

            -We got everything. -Excellent.

            -The boots? -That's an affirmative.

            And a pair of tin snips, and a Phillips-head, traces of blood.

            And a finger, right?

            Was it in a jar behind a stack of magazines...

            ...or in the freezer under the turkey thigh?

            Behind the vanilla fudge ice cream.

            Good work. All you need now is a confession.

            There won't be one.

            Feathers committed suicide last night.

            -Suicide? -Yeah.

            It was a gun to the head. Powder burns, GSR on his right hand.

            Ever heard of a ritual mutilator, an impulsive serial-type killer...

            ...committing suicide?

            Don't do that.

            I can't think of one. Psychos want to get caught.

            Lie down.

            I'm actually feeling a lot better, thank you.

            These kids did this.

            They're not even hiding it. They want us to know.

            So let's get to know them a little better.

            Turn around.

            We got Ray on this. Why did he run if he didn't do it?

            -There's a reason. -Are you jealous because I got him...

            ...or are you so obsessed with Richard you're not thinking?

            I'm sorry--

            You've been angling for this for a while, taking over the case!

            They made me take it because they think you're losing it!

            Who thinks I'm losing it? Who?

            Rod?

            I don't care if I'm losing it. I'm right.

            How did you come by this?

            It was the weirdest thing. I was driving by the house...

            ...the trash can got knocked over, and the stuff fell out.

            What a break.

            Some of this will be the mom's, some will be the boy's.

            -What is this? -Don't ask, don't tell.

            We won't know until we get the report if it matches the puke's DNA.

            Lucky he gave us some blood with his dinner.

            Be sure to get a signed purchase order.

            -When will we know? -Depends on the lab.

            -Want me to call him? -No! Last time I had to calm him down.

            -Just make it fast. -I'll take care of it. See you.

            What's this?

            -A purchase order for the DNA-- -I know what it is.

            This case is closed. Closed!

            Now, if you can't understand that, then maybe we--

            -You need some time off? -Nope, I'm fine.

            You're not fine.

            You're brilliant sometimes, but never really fine.

            You want to see Doc Sluzer again?

             -No. -Then no more on this case.

              Not another minute, not another penny. I've about had it with you.

              You hear me?

              Hi, it's Cass. I'll need another day or two on that purchase order.

              No, just bookkeeping, changing the software, things like that.

              So you'll run an analysis on that puke?

              Thanks, honey.

              -I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it. -Come on!

              -You threw up? Why didn't you tell me? -I don't remember doing it.

              He doesn't remember.

              What if they l.D. you? With the DNA, can they do that?

              I doubt it. The stomach acids usually eat away--

              -You doubt it? -I doubt it.

              -It could put us in the electric chair! -Gas chamber.

              -What? -California uses a gas chamber.

              -That's very informative. -It doesn't matter.

              No, thank you.

              You told her you tutor me too? What are you thinking?

              If she found out on her own...

              ...and I hadn't mentioned it, it would look even worse!

              They have nothing.

              They have nothing on me.

              Don't worry, I'm not a backstabber like you, Richard.

              How am I a back--?

              I'm not the one talking, giving away all the information...

              ...trying to get us caught because I'm a bitch!

              -Don't talk to me like that. -I'll talk to you how I want to.

              I trust you with forensic stuff, and you have no idea what you're talking about!

              -You're supposed to be smart! -Stop.

              -No, you're not smart, you're dumb! -Stop!

              I'm sorry.

              Come here.

              That's a good boy.

              You're not still mad about that girl, are you?

              Let's just stick together and stay calm until this is over, okay?

              And then what?

              And then what?

              Justin? Where are you going?

              We can't be seen together.

              Do you think this is some kind of game?

              Come on, come on.

              This is Sam Kennedy. I'm not here to take your call--

              What are you doing here?

              What are you doing here?

              Do you want something?

              Like what?

              I don't know.

              Everybody wants something, don't they?

              Do they?

              They just don't know how to ask for it.

              What do you want?

              Richard, get out of the way.

              -You think I'm too young? -There was a killer at your school.

              The whole time, somebody you were close to.

              -What do you mean? -Raymond Feathers.

              -You guys were friends, right? -With that degenerate?

              No. He didn't really have many friends.

              He just....

              I don't know.

              You know, even his old lady left him.

              So you're friends with his old lady too?

              You're a tease. You lead guys on and then push them away.

              But I think...

              ...you like to fight.

              You want it, but you need to fight about it.

              No.

              You don't have to do anything. You have no choice.

              You can't handle it, so you're leaving?

              This is part of it!

              Damn it!

              Thank you, detective.

              I bet you did this with every guy you ever dated.

              Tell me I'm wrong.

              -If I can link Richard to Feathers-- -You can't stop.

              I'm sorry about what I said.

              I'm just a little messed up right now, but hear me out, as a friend.

              Just as a friend, okay?

              Thank you. I saw Richard and Justin tonight.

              -They lied, they know each other. -Really?

              They barely have parents. They're like orphans with credit cards.

              School's too easy. They don't have jobs or chores.

              Nothing's expected of them. Nothing they do matters.

              So they figured, "Why not kill somebody?"

              Maybe I'm wrong, but tell Rod you want to keep the case open.

              What happened between you and Richard tonight?

              Did you hit him? ln the face?

              No.

              No, it wasn't like that, it was--

              It was an acci--

              -Rod knows? -He got a call from Richard's father.

              He'll make you see the department shrink about this.

              No. No shrink. It's not gonna work.

              I know what I am. I'm just not--

              Okay.

              So nobody wants to work with me? That's okay.

              But I'm a good cop.

              And if what I say is right, and we let these kids go, and they do it again....

              So please just talk to Rod, you're the only one he'll listen to.

              -I'll call him in the morning. -Call him now, he's still up.

              Back off!

              If Rod says yes...

              ...maybe you could even hang around the school and make them nervous.

              We have papers due tomorrow, no excuses.

              Support your conclusions, having a thesis isn't enough.

              I want real arguments with quotations and sources.

              -Sam Kennedy, San Benito Police. -Nice to meet you.

              Lisa!

              Sam Kennedy, from San Benito Police.

              Start time.

              Let's see....

              It's me. I know how they did it.

              Now we need to know why.

              I can help with that. I got someone here you ought to talk to.

              Rod, look at the DNA. The vomit is a perfect match with Justin.

              Who paid for this?

              Cassie, out of her own pocket.

              You'd need a jury of     forensic experts.

              That's why we need a confession from one of them.

              They'll talk without an attorney?

              They want to prove they're smarter than we are.

              Okay.

              So where's the other one?

              Who?

              The hot one.

              Not here.

              -You get to work with her everyday? -Yeah.

              I should become a cop.

              So, what's up with Ray?

              I hear he's like a serial killer or something.

              Well, actually, we have a theory on that. It involves you and Justin.

              It's just a theory. Can I lay it out for you?

              Yeah.

              "Therefore...

              ...every truly free act is a crime, for crime sets one apart...

              ...from the machinery of mass society.

              It can't be a crime of profit or passion, but gratuitous and random.

              Crime as philosophy, as freedom."

              Interesting.

              Do you believe it?

              It's a school paper. You have to write something.

              I enjoy taking indefensible positions and creating an argument for them.

              But do you believe it?

              So then the question is, how did you pick the victim?

              Was it random?

              I mean, that's the way I'd do it.

              That one right there, with the flowers. She's perfect.

              No, she's too skinny.

              You understand what random means? We don't choose.

              -Don't talk to me like I'm a moron. -We have to follow the plan--

              -This one! What about this one? -Don't get impatient.

              Wait a second.

              Pull up, where the girl is loading the groceries.

              Okay.

              But you lose the point of a philosophical crime if you feel guilty.

              How do you mean?

              If you kill somebody to prove you're free, and then throw up--

              I didn't.

              -What are you talking about? -Richard didn't feel guilty.

              He's free, Justin. You're not.

              Relax. Let them wonder what we're up to.

              Now go in.

              Your coffee.

              -You can't smoke in here. -Come on.

              Are we almost done?

              Take a seat.

              So Ray was an inspired choice.

              But the great thing...

              ...was how subtly you planted the fibers and hairs and stuff.

              I got your product.

              You did Ray, right? Wasn't he your friend?

              You told him to hide in his trailer, didn't you?

              What are you talking about?

              You went home, you said hello to your mother.

              It took you    minutes to walk home from the restaurant.

              Mother, I'm home.

              You said you had to do schoolwork so she wouldn't look in.

              And she didn't. She never did, did she?

              I was with six friends all night. You know that. You talked to them.

              The night, sure, but not the day.

              That's the secret. You weren't there at night.

              The thing that always confused me was the muddy footprints in the house.

              You know?

              The planting bed was dry, so where did they come from?

              It was you at the house. Justin would not have walked through the wet beds.

              That was exactly  :  .

              How long did you wait for her to come home?

              You didn't kill her there.

              I gotta say, that was a stroke of genius.

              Did you think it up, or was it Justin?

              I don't know what you're saying.

              That helped us figure out the real timetable.

              That gave you time to get home for the study group.

              I'll go get some cash for the pizza.

              You told them you were going to the ATM to get cash. And you did.

              And I did.

              Then you hurried back.

              -That took five minutes. -It took five minutes.

              -Now we're talking. -But you were gone    .

              What are you looking at?

              Richard killed her. Didn't he, Justin?

              I think it was Justin.

              Let me tell you something.

              It'll be the most important thing you ever hear.

              More important than the instructions on the SATs and APs.

              The person who actually killed Olivia Lake is gonna be executed.

              Or, at best, go to jail for life. In your case that'd be about    years.

              But the other one, who didn't actually kill her, if he cooperates...

              ...will have a chance at a real life.

              Richard was back in the study group by  :  .

              So you must have dumped the body.

              The planning was easy...

              ...but now you had to actually do it.

              And that's why the postmortem wounds were so tentative.

              You were trying to be like Richard, but you couldn't.

              You weren't that free. Thank God.

              Go to hell.

              -My guy won't roll. -I figured he'd be the one.

              No. Let's talk about Lisa. She went out with Richard?

              Briefly. Then she got interested in Justin.

              Let's use that.

              Interesting theory, but I can't admit to something I didn't do.

              Looks like you won't have to.

              Because Justin is talking in there.

              Justin's here?

              He told us about you.

              About you and Lisa.

              Which Lisa?

              So you really need to tell me what happened.

              Just think of it as a game.

              Whoever talks first is the winner.

              Justin says you betrayed him.

              He told us about Lisa and the tape you made.

              Justin's talking.

              He's gonna win this thing, unless you have something to tell me.

              Okay, I'm gonna go see.

              Wait, wait.

              Come on, sit down.

              I have to advise you of certain rights.

              -The interview is over. -Richard's father's lawyer.

              Charge them or let them go.

              Another five minutes, we would have had both those kids.

              If I ever find out who leaked to the parents, I swear....

              No, that's all right. Yeah, I'll talk to you tomorrow.

              Justin won't talk, because he needs to prove he's as tough as his buddy.

              -He's tougher. -Yeah, maybe.

              That Richard, I can't wait till we nail him.

              One of them is the doer, and he's going down, but there's something deeper--

              A narcissistic prick like Richard doesn't care about anyone but himself.

              He uses Justin to feed his ego. Push him around, make him feel like a man.

              In five years, no one will care he was homecoming king...

              ...or pole-vaulting champ. I pity anyone who gets in his way.

              Is Richard a pole-vaulter?

              I don't know.

              I was using it as an example of, you know....

              Look....

              I know about Carl Hudson.

              Where did you get that?

              This is none of your God-- This is my matter!

              Mine!

              I knew this girl in high school...

              ...smart enough...

              ...but she didn't really come from anything.

              And to everyone's amazement, the most popular boy liked her.

              State pole-vaulting champ.

              You'd watch him go over that bar in the sunlight...

              ...that golden body, it was like...

              ...life just couldn't get any more beautiful than that.

              And it didn't.

              She was     when she married him.

              Seventeen when he knocked out her upper bicuspid.

              Eighteen when she decided to leave.

              He put her in the hospital with a serious concussion.

              A week later, when she got out...

              ...she started packing, and he was drunk.

              He pointed his finger at her. He said, "You try that again, I'll kill you."

              He took another drink...

              ...and she headed for the door.

              Why didn't she wait till he was out? Left for work?

              She couldn't, she had to go right then.

              -Why then? -I don't know.

              It was because....

              Because she....

              It wasn't about getting away from him, it was about standing up to him.

              Even if it killed her.

              I guess so.

              So he stabbed her     times with a kitchen knife...

              ...and dumped her body on a country road.

              Yeah, ruined my favorite dress.

              Carl Hudson.

              Cutest boy I ever saw...

              ...until Richard Haywood.

              And you're supposed to testify at Carl's parole hearing.

              What are you gonna say?

              Nothing. I'm not going.

              I'm not.

              -You gotta go up there, you have to. -No. I don't have to.

              The girl was Jessica Marie Hudson. I have nothing to say about her.

              -You just inherited her scars. -Look, I made a deal.

              The deal was that she died there.

              She's in the ground, and I can go on with my life.

              Except you can't. All you think about is Carl Hudson.

              He's every case. He's every guy you date.

              Your whole world is Carl Hudson. Is that the life you're going on with?

              -Did you ever get help for any of this? -Yeah.

              I became a cop.

              You can't just pretend it didn't happen. It's not that simple, Cass.

              It has to be.

              Because if it gets any more complicated, I can't make it.

              Richard Haywood is on line one.

              Swanson.

              So you want to talk to me about this Covington woman?

              Yes, I know all about it. What can I do for you?

              I just thought you'd want to know what really happened.

              I thought it was a game.

              How do you pick a victim? How do you get away with it?

              We were bored.

              I never took it seriously until I walk in the room, and she's laying there....

              Did you make a deal with him?

              -He says he wasn't there-- -Did you make a deal?

              I don't make deals over the phone, but if it checks out...

              -...and we can get a conviction, I will. -Fine. Let's get warrants now.

              Where are you going?

              You're not supposed to leave without telling us.

              Will you be back for dinner?

              Justin's not here. His mother doesn't even know when he left.

              Similar story here. What about Goldilocks?

              Get over there and see what she knows.

              -You should take a look downstairs. -I gotta go. Bye.

              I didn't know where else to go.

              Tell me what's going on.

              The cops are asking about you and Richard. I don't know what to say.

              We killed a woman.

              No, you didn't.

              Yes, we did.

              He made you do it.

              It wasn't just Richard.

              But he drove it.

              It was his idea.

              You would have never done anything like this by yourself.

              He seduced you...

              ...just like he seduced me.

              You know what you have to do.

              -You have to tell them everything. -I will.

              I don't have any feelings left.

              Except for you.

              -That's him. -Don't answer it.

              Where are you?

              Are you with her?

              No.

              Yes, you are.

              And you told her about us, didn't you? Did you tell her everything?

              Where are you?

              I left home.

              All right? I'm gone. I'm never going back. It's over.

              I know. We have to turn ourselves in.

              And go to prison?

              And be punks? And eat shit for the rest of our lives?!

              Do you remember what we talked about?

              Yes.

              Meet me at the bluff in an hour. Okay?

              Okay.

              I have to meet him.

              To do what?

              I just have to.

              I wish I met you first.

              Cassie Mayweather.

              Have a seat.

              So this is what we talked about.

              Glory or nothing.

              Should we say the words for the last time?

              One cannot live fully without embracing suicide and crime.

              Say it.

              A pact made with relentless fire that requires that while some live...

              ...others die.

              On three.

              One.

              Two.

              Three.

              -What are you doing? -I have the bullets, right?

              What about you?

              Open your chamber.

              Open it!

              You were gonna watch me kill myself?

              -They're here at the old Wintu Lodge. -Roger. That's up off Highland Road?

              So since I have the bullets and the guts to use them...

              ...l'll shoot you, and then I'll shoot myself, okay?

              -No. -No?

              Why? Would you rather go to prison and be a punk?

              Or do you think you'll beat prison?

              Because you made a deal.

              You talked. You talked!

              Why don't you shoot me?

              Shoot me in the head, in the heart. Whatever you want.

              Do it. Doesn't matter anymore. Pull the fucking trigger. Pull it!

              Come on!

              Justin, don't.

              -We have to pay for what we did. -Not like that.

              Put the gun down.

              Put it down.

              Please don't.

              Justin, listen to me. For me.

              -Come over here, next to me. -Don't listen to her.

              Don't!

              Hands off!

              Stay put. People are on the way.

              Hey, Richard?

              You think you're so smart, huh?

              Justin's smarter than you, remember that.

              I got one left.

              To hell with it.

              --every night, the same fucking thing? Listen!

              Listen to me! You are not going out that door, Jess!

              You are not going out that door!

              Justin, please!

              Justin, please.

              Don't! Justin!

              Justin, don't!

              No, no! Don't!

              Grab it.

              I got it.

              Thank you, thank you.

              I'm okay, thank you.

              What's gonna happen to me?

              Since you weren't the actual killer, and what you did down there for me....

              Don't worry about it, I'll take care of you.

              You all right?

              -Whisper something into my ear. -What?

              Just anything.

              Remember what I said about looking for new partners?

              Are you serious?

              Where was it?

              I want to take that back.

              -Did they find the videotape? -Yes.

              -How's he doing? -He looks okay.

              But we're gonna transport him for treatment.

              Why did you let Richard videotape the killing?

              That was really stupid, like you guys wanted to get caught.

              -What are you talking about? -Oh, you don't know?

              They found a hidden camera in Richard's basement.

              That's how he filmed himself with Lisa. He filmed the killing too.

              The D.A. is looking at it now.

              Look, whatever is on that tape....

              Whatever's on that tape what?

              Is there really a tape?

              -Maybe I should talk to a lawyer. -Absolutely.

              No, wait a second. Wait!

              I thought Richard manipulated you, but it was the other way around.

              These marks are from Richard's ring when he tried to strangle me.

              There are none of these marks on Olivia's neck.

              Richard could have taken off that ring to make it look like Ray did it.

              The ring has nothing to do with it. Tell me what happened...

              ...and I'll do my best to get you tried as a juvenile.

              You have to believe me. When I went over there, I had no idea.

              I never thought I'd....

              Oh, God.

              Are you gonna do it or what?

              I can't.

              Fuck--!

              So, what, I have to do it?

              You don't do anything. You just have ideas.

              And you're so full of shit too.

              You're always telling me:

              "Crime is not an idea, it's an act.

              Anybody can think it. Only free men can do it."

              I'm free.

              Give me the gloves.

              Give them to me.

              Thank you.

              I had to show him.

              I could have let you die up there, but I didn't.

              Thank you.

              Wait! I just want a chance.

              I wanna start over. I wanna--

              It doesn't work that way.

              You get one life.

              And whatever you do with it, whatever's done to you...

              ...you gotta face that.

              You can't pretend it didn't happen.

              Jessica Marie Hudson?

              Jessica Marie Hudson.

              For the Carl Hudson parole hearing?

              Jessica Marie Hudson?

              That's me.



  

 
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