Original subtitles

I'm pretty hungry. I hope we catch some fish soon.

Me too.

- Okay, help me wind. - Wind back?

Can we turn this one? Slowly.

Slowly, slowly, slowly, slowly.

- I am doing it slowly. - Okay, you got it.

Oh, Matty, look!

- You see that big boat out there? - Mm-hmm.

She is the prettiest boat on Whidbey Island. That's the Morning Star.

Someday when you're big enough, I'm gonna teach you how to sail.

- It's the best thing there is, sailing. - Better than fishing?

Yup. But you know what, kiddo?

- I don't think I want you to grow up. - Why?

What if you grow up and marry some beautiful girl?

- Who's gonna go sailing with me then? - Dad.

Not a chance.

Thank you so much.

Nick. Uh, we need to talk.

Always happy to talk to you, Rudy. Hey, Warren.

Did you get that notice from First Seattle today?

Yeah. Yeah, as a matter of fact, I did.

- Good. - Then you know.

- We've got a real problem. - First Seattle is not a problem.

These martinis are a problem. Do you mind?

- Not at all. - Where were we? Right, First Seattle.

- Mommy? - Hey, kiddo.

- How's it going? - Hand off.

- Oh, you sack of potatoes. - Ay-yi-yi.

Have you been carrying him around the whole party?

- Yeah. - We're never gonna marry you, Angie.

Mm, yes. Picasso.

Blue Period.

The artist's name is Kandinsky.

Wassily Kandinsky.

He was German, of Russian extraction, 1866 to 1944.

And by the way, Picasso's Blue Period was figurative...

and ended in 1904.

And these watercolors are abstract, done in 1911.

Picasso.

Everyone pipe down. I'm about to give a speech.

Thank you for coming. I always say the sign of a good party...

is when I'm having a better time than anyone else, but...

now is the time when you're expected to ante up...

for drinking all my liquor, and eating all my food...

and spilling tomato sauce on my couch, Bobby Long.

- Ooh... - What, you didn't think I saw you?

- Oh, he's insufferable. - I know it.

Now, we are here to raise a vast sum of money for the Small Frye School.

So, while you are reaching for your checkbooks...

it gives me great pleasure to introduce Mrs. Rebecca Tingley...

our totally ravishing...

and completely adorable Headmistress.

Mr. Parsons, thank you.

First of all, I'd like to start by introducing...

- a few members of my staff to you today. - Oh, God.

I give you our dedicated teacher and Head of Admissions...

Miss Angela Green.

Yea!

Me!

What are you thinking about?

Was I always as rude as I am now?

Absolutely.

Hi. Come have a seat.

Angela, do you think we ought to break the news to her?

I suppose it's better she hears it from us than from someone else.

She's not gonna be happy about it.

What's up, guys?

Close your eyes.

Close 'em.

Okay, now, stand up.

Keep 'em closed.

Now, Libby, what is your favorite thing?

- Me? - Not even close.

All right, open.

I heard Sean Gittman was thinking of selling.

I made him an offer...

and he agreed to let us take her out for the weekend.

And if you like it, it's yours.

- If I like it? - Mm-hmm.

Honey, we can't afford that.

When have I ever let that get in my way? Come on.

Huh?

What about Matty?

I'll take care of him. We'll have a great time.

You hate to sail.

I can learn.

Huh?

Generally, wine like this needs time to breathe...

but I don't know, I don't think we should...

wait.

I don't see land.

So where is it?

Alaska's over that way, Japan is straight ahead...

and Australia's somewhere to the left.

Where would you like to go?

Bed.

That can be arranged.

We should do this more often.

What do you mean? Buy expensive sailboats?

If this is what happens, I'll buy another one tomorrow.

No, go away, just the two of us...

with nobody else around.

I'll drink to that.

Nick?

Nick?

Oh, my God. Nick?

Nick?

Nick? Ni...

Oh, my God.

Nick?

Nick! Nick!

Nick! Oh, my God.

Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

Nick?

Morning Star, this is the Coast Guard.

Put the knife down, ma'am, and step away.

I- I don't... I don't know...

I don't know... where my husband is!

...search for local businessman...

Nick Parsons, who disappeared in these waters off Whidbey Island.

All right, tie it off.

- Hey, Cutter. - Hey, Tom. What have you got for me?

- Anything? - No.

Cutter, please don't let them give up. He's very strong.

- Libby. L-Libby. - He's a very strong man.

The raft and life preservers are all on board.

These guys, they tracked the wind, currents...

Nothing. The water temperature overnight...

was 51 degrees.

That's cold. That's really cold.

- Cutter, I can't breathe! - Just put your head down.

Yeah, that's it. Deep breaths.

Big breaths.

Shh.

Mommy, look!

Hi, kiddo.

Hey, Bobby.

Hey, Libby.

Um, well, Cutter, he, uh...

He asked me to come by and talk to you, you know.

Just, um... Not as an attorney, just as a friend.

The inquest was held this morning, and they reviewed all the evidence...

and Nick, uh, well, he's officially been declared dead.

Now, Libby, they, um...

they've determined it was a "wrongful death, and you...

Oh, Jesus, you... You're being formally charged with his murder.

I am here to advise you.

Make no statements whatsoever to the sheriff.

I'm sorry, Libby.

Cutter!

Not in front of my kid, okay?

I'm sorry, Libby. Uh, the judge denied us bail.

Can Angie keep looking after Matty?

Good. Okay, uh...

- Let's look at this, see what we can do. - Bobby.

Here's what I think happened.

I had some wine, okay?

And I fell asleep. It must have been the sun.

And maybe Nick was trying to cut a snagged line or something...

because the knife...

from the galley was on deck.

And-And maybe the boat pitched or something...

and he cut himself.

And he tried to come downstairs. He tried to come below...

to wake me up.

I quit these things when I met Nick.

It'll be all right. I promise you.

So. Why don't we take a look at this First Guarantee Life?

Now. You both bought life insurance policies...

from the company around four months ago.

- And you are the beneficiary. - I'm his wife.

Libby, you know this policy is worth two million?

Nick wanted to make sure that if anything happened to him, we'd be okay.

The jury may feel there's a difference between "okay" and $2 million.

They may see it as a motive.

- Is that what they're saying? - No, no one is saying that.

- I don't think we have to be concerned... - That I killed Nick for money?

I know we had some problems, and Nick worried...

- but we were okay! - Libby!

Two of his investors were suing him for embezzlement.

First Seattle issued a lien on all of his real estate properties...

your personal possessions...

Now, Nick's death means all these problems disappear...

behind a corporate shield, leaving you with $2 million.

- Do you think I killed him? - The first rule of being a lawyer.

What we think doesn't matter.

It matters to me.

No. Of course. I don't think you killed him.

Petty Officer Young, what was the condition...

of the Morning Star's marine band radio when you had a chance to inspect it?

The handset cord had been cut.

And as you initially approached the sailboat...

what did you see?

Mrs. Parsons was holding a knife.

I show you State's exhibit... number four.

Uh, Mayday. Mayday.

This is the Morning Star.

State your emergency, Morning Star.

I've been stabbed.

I'm bleeding, uh... Oh, Jesus.

My na... My name's Nicholas Parsons.

- State your position. - I don't know, man.

Three miles northwest of, uh, of Whidbey Island, I guess.

Oh, God! Oh, God!

Mrs. Parsons, you've heard the testimony presented to this court...

and your explanation is that somebody must have come aboard the Morning Star.

- That's right. - Let's consider all the possibilities.

Maybe a band of pirates.

Or aliens! Did aliens murder your husband?

No. Aliens weren't beneficiaries in...

- your husband's life insurance policy. - Objection.

- Your Honor, the prosecutor... - Overruled.

- I told you what happened. - Yes, you did.

- You told us that you were asleep. - Yes.

Maybe you were sleepwalking when you stabbed your husband.

Objection.

Is Miss Halliwell questioning the witness, or making a closing argument?

- Withdrawn. - I didn't kill my husband!

I loved my husband.

Bobby, I did not kill my husband!

You have to believe me.

I'm-I'm sorry, Libby.

It's not your fault, Bobby.

I want to ask you something, Angie.

I'd like you to adopt my son.

No, Lib, I can't do that. Not to you.

I've thought it through.

I barely survived my parents' house. I'm not gonna put him there.

Money won't be a problem because there's the $2 million...

from the life insurance, and it's going into a trust fund in his name.

- It isn't about money. - I know.

Matty loves you.

We can't let him become a ward of the state.

Thank you.

Hey, kiddo.

Come see me.

You're gonna go stay with Angie for a while. Okay, kiddo?

Okay.

And you're gonna have lots of fun...

and I know you're gonna be a good boy, right?

Yes, Mommy.

And as soon as all this is over...

we'll be together again.

That's a promise, kiddo.

Okay?

I love you.

I love you, too.

- Who's this? - Rich bitch from Whidbey Island.

- She ain't gonna make it. - What do you think... a year?

Five cartons says she offs herself inside of six months.

- Deal. - Get away from me.

Hey, take it easy. We're you new best friends.

Heard you did your husband. Probably deserved it.

Mine did.

I know what a pain it is to get here.

- I taught him how to say the ABC's. - Is that true?

- Sing it, Matty. Go! - Yes.

Did you learn the alphabet, sweetie?

- Yeah. - Can you tell me?

Give it up. Come on.

Get off the phone, bitch. Jesus.

Whoa, you're low on cigarettes.

If you want to make any friends...

I advise you buy another pack fast...

on account of your personality...

It ain't the best I've ever seen.

Hear you're tryin' to reach your friend, the one with your boy.

Yeah, I can't find 'em. They disappeared.

Oh, hon... If you could disappear that easy...

believe you me, I wouldn't be here right now.

Me either.

Think. Use your head.

There's gotta be a way to track 'em down.

- Small Frye School, front office. - Shh! Shh!

Hello, this is Angela Green calling.

- Angie, it's Jennifer. - Yes, hi. How are you?

- Good to hear from you. - Yes, it's nice to hear your voice.

Listen, I haven't gotten a severance check in a while...

and I was hoping I could verify with you...

that you have my correct mailing address and phone number.

- I'll check. Can you hold on a sec? - Yes, of course. Thank you.

Yeah, I have it right here. Tell me if this is right.

3321 Mason Street, San Francisco...

94105.

The phone number is 415...

Hello?

Angie? Angie.

Libby? I-I've tried to call you a thousand times.

- Is Matty okay? Where is he? - He's fine.

Everything is fine.

What are you doing in San Francisco? Put him on the phone.

- Hey, why are you acting this way? - Because you disappeared...

and I haven't seen my son in a month!

- I-I was just about to call you. - Oh, bullshit!

How can you move and not tell me, Angie?

We were coming to see you next week.

Just put Matty on the phone.

Matty? It's Mommy. Come say hi.

Come here. Here.

- Hi, Mommy. - Hello, sweetie pie.

How are you, Matty?

I think about you all the time, honey.

I miss you so much. Are you doing okay, kiddo?

I love you.

Listen, Matty. I know that this has been really hard...

but Angie is gonna bring you up to see me next week, okay?

Yes, Mommy.

- Daddy! - Nick?

Nick?

He was in San Francisco last night.

I have a phone number, but it's already been disconnected.

No, I don't... I don't have a forwarding address.

He's gone. Well, don't you have investigators?

Doesn't your company want to get its $2 million back?

Why aren't you listening to me? I am innocent.

Yeah, you are. Sure, you are.

Hurry up.

Put some elbow grease behind that stirring.

Nobody wants to eat any burnt tapioca.

Does it smell like it's burning?

Oh, I swear you got shit for brains, girl.

You're in prison. Do you get that?

Nobody wants to listen to anybody in prison...

so you can just forget about reopening your case...

or a jailhouse appeal.

You got that?

They take years... and they're 95% unsuccessful.

So, if you want my advice...

- No. - Well, you're gonna get it.

- You do your time. - So what are you now, a lawyer?

Once upon a time.

But they tend to disbar murderers.

And here's your Christmas present. You ready?

Pay attention, because this is best goddamn advice you ever gonna get.

Ever hear of double jeopardy? Fifth amendment to the constitution?

Huh? No? Well, double jeopardy provides that...

"No person may be tried for the same crime twice. " You got that?

Keep stirrin'. The state says you already killed your husband.

They can't convict you of it a second time.

That means that when you leave here...

you track him down, and when you find him you can kill him.

That's right. You can walk right up to him in Times Square...

put a gun to his head and pull the fuckin' trigger...

and there's nothin' anybody can do about it.

Kinda makes you feel warm and tingly all over, don't it?

That's right. Keep stirrin'.

I gotta hand it to you, honey. It's just sheer hate driving you on.

The only way you're gonna look like that...

is if I staple the picture to your forehead.

Just trust me, okay?

- Matty's eighth birthday, honey. - Aw.

- Oh... - Look at that.

You know, Evelyn, I read that even if a child...

is separated from its mother the day it's born...

it never forgets her voice.

Think that's true?

'Course I do.

I feel like I've grown these past six years.

"Grown"? Honey, they don't want to hear...

that you've turned into some kind of tree, okay?

So just repeat after me: "If I could trade places with my husband, I would. "

Ugh. "If I could trade places with my husband, I would. "

That's good. Now throw in a lot of that born-again-Jesus stuff.

- They like that. - Listen, listen, listen.

I want you to start with this...

"I'm not sitting in front of you today to make excuses. "

I'm not sitting in front of you today to try to make any excuses.

I killed my husband.

I've had to live with that every day for the past six years.

But I swear to you that I'm a changed person.

Why should we believe you?

I don't think I can ask you to believe me.

All I can really do is believe in myself...

and know that if I were given a chance, I could do something good with my life.

Make up for the wrong I did.

That was cool. Oh, mom-my!

- Yeah! - Hey, hey. Talk to me.

Oh, man, did you see that?

... six years telling each other stories...

about all the shit that's been done to you.

A lot of shit's been done to you. I know that.

But let's imagine that all those people that did that shit showed up here.

- The man's across the hall. - Thanks.

Let's imagine that they all showed up here and apologized.

Would that change the situation you're in right now?

- There's the windup... - Come in.

Ball two.

- I'm Elizabeth Parsons. - What do you have in that box?

Elizabeth Parsons.

The state of Washington has granted you a conditional parole.

For the next three years, you will observe all the rules of this facility,

which means no fighting, no fornicating, no drinking, no drugs...

no exceptions, no excuses.

- Do you understand that? - Yes.

This is your social security card.

You will find gainful and sustained employment.

You are not to carry a firearm or a weapon of any kind...

especially a knife.

Curfew is at 8:30.

This is my cell phone number. Do not lose it.

If you think there's a chance you will be even five minutes late...

you will call me, I will have you picked up.

Do you understand that? Good.

Any violation of these conditions...

and your "get out of jail free" card will be revoked by me and you will...

return to prison to serve the remainder of your sentence and maybe then some.

Look right here.

- Is this a problem for you? - No.

Yes, it is. Do you want to tell me about him?

No.

No.

I'm gonna have trouble with you, Parsons.

No, sir. No, you're not. I learned my lesson. I just...

I'm not interested in your goddamn contrition.

I'm interested in your behavior. Get out of here and behave yourself.

You're in room eight on the second floor.

No, you're, uh...

You're never gonna get anywhere like that.

Here.

Hmm. Nice shampoo.

- What are you looking for? - A friend I haven't seen for years.

Someone said I should try the Internet.

This a boy... friend?

- Girl. - Well, in that case, I'll help you.

Does your friend have E-mail?

- I have no idea. - Okay, come on. Let's do some surfing.

- So, what's your friend's name? - Angela Green.

Uh, zip code?

Hmm. How about a social security number?

That way we could run a credit report, and it'll give us her address.

Nope. She was a school teacher.

Done deal.

And... voil�.

Now, maybe when this thing has finished its searching, we could go to this...

this neat little bar I know and, uh, you know, have a little drink.

- What do you say? - Yeah.

I just have to check in with my parole officer first.

- You've been to jail? - Actually, prison. Jail is different.

So, what did you do, not pay your parking tickets?

Oh, no. I was convicted of murdering my husband.

You're kidding, right?

No, I'm not. Um, "sliced and diced," the paper called it.

Can you believe that?

You're not kidding?

No. I said I wasn't. But it would be nice to have a drink.

I haven't been out in a long time.

Ye... Oh!

Oh, look, I just remembered I have, um...

- this appointment with the... - See ya.

See ya. Sorry.

Oh. Book. See ya.

Oh, my God.

He takes me out for dinner and feeds me escargot. Do you know what those are?

- Yeah. - Snails. Snails, yuck.

But anyway, the moment I go to bed with him...

- the big asshole dumps me. - Geez, man.

Oh, for Christ's sake, you nit-picking fuck!

Ruby, do not insult me by raising your voice.

I'm standing right here, and I can hear you just fine.

- All right. Sorry. - I don't like it when you call me names.

Please, Mr. Lehman, don't do this to me. I didn't do nothing!

- Where were you this afternoon? - I was at my job.

You were on Pike Street wearing lime hot pants and fishnet stockings!

- I was on my way to work! - At McDonald's? In those clothes?

You haven't been to work in a week! Get your stuff.

Look, I-I'm sorry, man. I won't do it again.

I will never do that shit again. I promise that.

You blew off your parole. You're going back. It's that simple.

You fuck. You fuckin' cocksucker!

- You got a dirty mouth, Ruby! - I want one chance!

I just want one chance!

Goddamn you, motherfucker!

You son of a bitch. You mean fucker.

You send me back there it'll kill me, you mean son of a bitch!

- Come on. - Fuck you! Fucking asshole!

Show's over. Go to sleep!

You think I'm a mean son of a bitch?

I think you could have given her a second chance.

There are no second chances in this house. This is the last chance house.

- You try to understand that. - Yeah. Yeah, we got it.

What the hell is wrong with that guy?

What I heard, the man used to be some college whatchamacallit.

- Law teacher or something? - Yeah, that's right. That's right.

You're kidding. How does a law professor end up someplace like this?

- 'Cause life's a bitch. - Bitch, my ass.

He got a D.U.I. And totaled his car.

I heard he totaled his wife and his daughter in that accident.

Girl, you're talkin' shit. Nobody got killed.

But by the time his wife got done with him, I bet he wished he was dead.

Took everything he had. Including the kid.

Hasn't seen his girl in years.

Libby, it's wrong of you to be here. It's very wrong.

I'm sorry to bother you, but you're my only hope.

Sharon? No, you put that down, please.

Libby, I'm sorry. I can't.

I want to find my son!

Matty's had six years with Angie.

I mean, think about it, Libby... six years.

Oh, Benjamin, that's a great sand castle.

If you come back into his life right now...

it's just gonna cause more disruption and pain.

Just think about it, Libby, please? Think about it.

I just want to see him, Rebecca.

Can you give me an address for Angie, so I can see him?

Look, I'm sorry. I really am sorry.

Lauren? Come on, get down, please. That's it.

- Where's Parsons? - I don't know. Not here.

Probably just a raccoon.

Check up the stairs.

Cutter! Up here!

Shit!

I got her.

There she is.

Shit!

Ohh!

Jesus Christ, Libby, what are you doing here?

Did you have a nice day at the beach?

You piss me off, Parsons.

Angela Green... that's the woman that's got your kid, right?

Can we not talk, please, Lehman?

Okay. All right.

- So why'd she skip town? - She just skipped town.

Yeah, with your husband, who isn't dead...

'cause you didn't kill him?

- Bullshit. - Okay, I killed my husband.

I chopped him up into little bits, and dumped him in the Pacific.

- Are you satisfied? - No. No.

You were a hell of a lot closer to your kid three days ago than you are today.

All you had to do was wait three years. That's all.

You fucking idiot.

You cannot know what it is like to sit in prison for six years...

and think of nothing else in the world but your son.

Did I make the right choice? You ask the wrong question, Lehman.

I didn't have a choice. Fuck your curfew!

Who's that? Your daughter?

Is that a problem for you, Lehman?

I'm going up top.

Don't go anywhere.

Janey, honey, read your book.

Oh! Shit!

Oh, my God!

- I got him! - Grab ahold for me.

O-2 ready.

- Is he all right? - I guess he's all right.

Did you voluntarily give her the gun?

Come on, Karl. What do you think? Hey! Hey.

- Sorry. - Were you drinking?

- No, I wasn't drinking. - It's been known to happen.

- Do you have any idea where she's gone? - No.

All right. Well, that's about all, then, isn't it?

All what?

There'll be an investigation into your actions today.

I wouldn't hold my breath about the prospect of keeping your job.

Karl, give me a break. Goddamn.

Thanks a lot.

Sent your father off to the V.F.W.

He'll be playing gin for hours.

- Some things never change. - Oh!

He's not as bad as he used to be, you know.

I'm glad for you, Mama.

I always said there was good money in tomatoes.

So. You're in the market for a B.M.W?

- Yeah. Who isn't? - Well, they're the best.

I decided it was finally time to trade up.

Right.

So why don't you check my credit and see if I can finance this.

Great. Let me have your social security number...

and I'll get the ball rolling.

Twenty Oriole Terrace, Evergreen, Colorado.

Is that your current address?

Twenty Oriole Terrace, Evergreen, Colorado? Sure is.

Didn't you say your name was Angela Green? 'Cause this says Ryder.

- Oh, no. I said Ryder. Angela Ryder. - What about the car?

Here. Fill this out and come back to me.

- How's tricks, Orbe? - No way.

No way, no way. I've been clean, Mr. Travis.

Oh, I know. I believe you. I do.

What I need is a search on a lady named Angela Green.

I've got her social security number here. I'd like you to...

Please. You know I'm not allowed to give out personal information.

Oh, I'm so... I shouldn't have asked you that. I'm sorry.

Uh-huh.

Speaking of giving out personal information, does your employer know...

you used to perform the art of fellatio for a living...

- went to prison, and you're on parole? - Okay. Okay. Shut up.

- You're required by law to tell him. - All right. Okay.

You're looking good, Orbe.

I know.

Honey, can you get that?

Hi.

- Who is it, Sam? - Uh, some lady.

May I help you?

I'm looking for my friend, Angela Ryder.

- I thought this was her address. - I've never heard of her.

But we've just moved in. Maybe you should check with the woman next door.

She's been here 40 years.

Excuse me.

Dearie, whatever you're selling, I've already got two of them.

I'm just looking for my friend, Angela Ryder.

She used to live next door.

Oh, I... I'm sorry to be the one to tell you.

But Angie died in the accident.

I- It was three or four years ago.

It was one of those awful things. The...

The, uh, stove, the gas stove in their house was leaking.

The explosion knocked out some of my windows...

- and, uh... - What about the boy?

Matty? He's such a dear child.

No, he and Simon weren't there when it happened.

Poor Simon.

I've never seen anyone so... grief stricken.

Oh, I'm sure.

Help me out, kiddo.

It would really help if you could remember...

what kind of car she was driving.

- Well, it was an old truck. - Yeah?

It's, um... I don't know what year or make or anything.

Well, what color was it?

Kandinsky? It's a bit out of our reach, I'm afraid.

I have a few Picasso and Chagall lithographs.

Mm, no. It-It's Kandinsky...

that I'm particularly interested in, especially his Blue Rider period.

- I love that. - Uh, well, uh...

Let's check Art Scan.

Kandinskys don't become available too often, I'm afraid.

Here's a lovely little Miro.

- It's quite reasonable. - It really needs to be Kandinsky.

Kandinsky... yes.

Ah! Here is a lovely 1922 Kandinsky lithograph.

- It's not quite the... - The 1911 is all that interests me.

1911...

Stop. There. Yes. Yes, that's it.

We've missed that. It was sold to a museum in Munich six months ago.

Do you think you could find who sold it? Perhaps they have more.

Well, uh, why, yes. Yes, let's see.

If you'll excuse me a moment.

Yes, sir. Can I help you?

Yes. My name is Travis Lehman.

Actually, I'm looking for a young lady.

She seemed so refined.

I would really like to know what that woman wanted in your gallery.

Can I help you?

I'm looking for Jonathan Devereaux.

Mr. Devereaux is out right now. He'll be back tonight for the party.

- Well, is Matty here? - I don't believe I know you, ma'am.

Maybe you'd like to leave a message.

It's certainly a pleasure having you stay with us...

- here at the Monteleone, Mrs. Kritch. - Thank you.

- My suite has a view? - Your room has a lovely view.

- And I need a masseuse. - I'll send Jerome right up.

Bruce?

Fourteen twenty... Mrs. Kritch.

Hello.

I'm sorry. Are you... lost?

No. Actually, I'm found. I just had an hour with Jerome.

Oh. Jerome. I've heard that he is marvelous.

He's fabulous. I haven't felt this good since my husband died.

So, I've got something for tonight, but I think I need Armani.

Yes. Very good, Mrs...

Kritch. Suite 1420.

Of course.

I'll be charging it to my room.

Hmm. Now, Mrs. Kritch...

I would say that you are a size... four?

- A two. - Of course.

There's a guy waiting for you.

Did you catch that thing?

What did you use for bait?

I caught that big bucket-mouth son of a bitch...

off an old rebel lure my daddy left me.

'Course there's buzz bombs, poppers, jigs...

all kinds of things work back in these waters.

I'm Jim Mangold.

Travis Lehman, Washington Department of Corrections.

What can I do for you?

- Who's this? - That's somebody I'm looking for.

- Pretty girl. - Oh, yeah.

She's very pretty, for a convicted murderer.

She jumped parole on me.

Mr. Lehman, I'd love to be able to help you, sir.

No, I don't want you guys to go to any trouble. I can handle matters.

I just came down as a professional courtesy...

since she's in New Orleans...

and came here to kill one of your prominent citizens.

- How is she planning on doing that? - I don't know.

She'll probably use the. 38 special she stole from me.

Roy Lee!

Get these in the works... now.

- She looks lovely. - Invitation, please.

Enjoy your evening.

Good evening. Thank you.

Invitations, please. Yes, I need to see your invitation.

Enjoy your evening.

Your invitation?

- Good evening. - What a remarkable wrap.

Where on earth did you find that?

The first lady asked me the same thing when we stayed at the White House...

and I wouldn't tell her either.

- Your invitation, sir? - I got it right here.

- Enjoy your evening. Good evening, miss. - Good evening.

- Good evening, mesdames and messieurs. - Good evening!

We're delighted to have you with us this evening...

on this very special occasion. As is the custom in New Orleans, since before...

the War of Northern Aggression...

We offer the ladies of this fair city our first bachelor...

to be put up on the auction block, our host, Jonathan Devereaux.

Where is that man? Where is that man?

- Hey, Jonathan. - Thank you, Louis.

You all having a good time?

Now then, ladies, what you see before you...

is a moderately presentable man in his 30s...

given to unhealthy thoughts and a dissipated lifestyle...

With... and this is what's gonna cost you the really big money...

Absolutely no redeeming moral virtue.

- Five hundred. - Dear woman, my cuff links cost more.

Do I hear a thousand?

- A thousand. - Thank you.

- Mmm! - Two thousand.

All right, now, did I just hear the voice of the charming Miss Monroe?

'Cause I was just starting to worry... beginning to think you didn't care.

Twenty-five hundred.

Twenty-five hundred. We have a new bidder.

- Twenty-five hundred. - Three thousand.

- Five thousand. - Oh!

Fifty-five hundred.

We have fifty-five hundred. Will, uh...

Will the lady take us to six?

Ten thousand dollars.

Well, see, at last, someone who knows my true value.

Now, Miss Monroe, I believe the bid...

is to you at $10,500.

Well, you can have him, honey.

Believe me, he ain't worth that much...

I know from personal experience.

Yeah. Thank you, honey.

All right, going once.

Going twice.

Sold to the woman in the back.

Ten thousand dollars.

Would you like to come forward and claim your prize, young lady?

Hello, Nick.

Well, aren't you gonna give me a kiss?

I think I've earned it.

- And now... - I'll make this real easy for you, Nick.

I'll make you an offer you can't refuse.

You used to love a good deal, didn't you?

- Can we take this someplace private? - I don't think so.

I remember what happened the last time we were alone.

I don't believe we've met. I'm Suzanne Monroe.

I'm Libby. I'm his wife.

Well, Jonathan!

A minute ago a bachelor, and now you're married.

You don't waste any time.

- You been in New Orleans long? - She's, uh...

I'm just passing through town to pick up my child.

- I'll be leaving very soon. - How nice.

We're finally putting the past behind us and moving on...

- with our lives, aren't we, Jonathan? - Sure.

I do have one question, though.

How long were Angie and you fucking before you decided to get rid of me?

- Would you excuse us, please? - Oh, yeah, sure. Go ahead.

- Where is he, Nick? - Libby. Libby...

You destroyed my life, and I will destroy yours...

unless you give me Matty.

- That's all I want. - Let me explain something to you.

You have to understand something. We were going under.

We were gonna lose everything.

If I'd had any guts, I would have killed myself...

but I was trying to protect you.

That's why I got the life insurance... I would be out of the picture...

and you and Matty would be okay.

And I-I just never believed they would convict you.

They did, Nick.

And the thing with Angie happened later.

It was just... It was a nightmare.

And the worst part of it was being away from you.

So is that why you killed her?

- That was an accident. - Nice try, Nick. I'm not buying.

- It's bullshit. - I will swear on the life of our son.

Oh, don't you fucking dare.

You can keep your hotel, your fancy accent and your new name.

- Just give me Matty. - I understand.

No. Now. Give him to me now.

Libby, it's the middle of the night. I can't just walk away.

- Do you think I'm stupid? - No, I don't think you're stupid.

- I won't let you slip away once again. - It's too far to Matty's school.

- You've got to be patient. - I've been patient for six years.

- Do I hear 2,000? - I want my child.

Ah! Thank you. You're a beautiful woman.

I'll call you tomorrow, Nick. No screwing around.

Going twice. Okay, 2,000 for the lady in red.

Excuse me. Do you know where Mr. Devereaux is?

- He's at the bar, sir. - Over here?

- Yes, sir. - Thank you.

You ready to spend some more money? Who's gonna start us off?

I'm sorry. Oh, thank you, Marcel.

- Can I offer you a drink? - Oh, no thanks.

Wait a second. Let me guess.

I take you for scotch and soda.

Well, I'll have a Diet Coke, please.

Well, all right, but I bet you used to drink and now you're on the wagon.

- Ten dollars says I'm right. - You've never seen this woman before?

- No, I'm positive. - Okay.

Let me get it straight. She believes that I am her husband...

- Oh, yeah. - Whom she killed.

Yes, sir.

That's-That's pretty far-fetched.

Far-fetched or not, she is in New Orleans...

she does have a gun and she is looking for you.

- Thank you. I'll alert our security. - You do that.

Cops have been passing these out.

No reward. Screw 'em.

You're gonna be posted in every hotel in town.

So much for a good night's sleep.

Take this. Get out of here.

Thanks a lot.

Let's go, Lehman. We spotted your girl.

Where'd she go, Dilbert?

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

Hey!

- Hey! - I'm sorry.

- What do you think you're doing? - I'm very sorry, ma'am.

I thought you were somebody else. It was a case of mistaken identity.

- Have a good evening. - I take it that ain't her.

Mr. Lehman.

Come in.

- Thank you. - May I offer you a Cuban cigar?

Oh, no thanks.

As you can see, I'm alive and kicking.

Yeah.

So what can I do for you this morning?

We spotted the Parsons woman in the Quarter last night.

She got away. I just came by to find out if you'd heard from her.

- Not a peep. - Do you have any idea...

why she's fixated her lunacy on you?

Well, the world's full of crazy people, am I right?

Oh, yes, you are right.

Truer words were never spoken.

Those are nice pictures there.

Did your kids do them?

Uh, no.

Those pictures are by a very great artist named Kandinsky.

- Oh. - Why do I think you already knew that?

Excuse me for a second.

Yes?

- This is a business call. - Oh, I'm sorry.

I hope you'll excuse me. You let yourself out that back door.

It leads to the kitchen. Get the chef to fix you a New Orleans breakfast.

- Thanks. - I recommend the Eggs St. Jacques.

- Oh, boy. That sounds good. - Mm-hmm. I have your card.

Okay.

Morning, darlin'. I hope you had a nice night.

I want you to bring Matty to Lafayette Cemetery number three.

A cemetery? That's an odd choice for a reunion.

It's a big tourist place, Nick. Lot of people around.

You're a smart girl. I can have him there by 4:00.

- Where's Matty? - Relax. He's... He was nervous.

So I just told him he could go play inside.

There he is.

Matty? Come over here, son.

Oh, geez. Matty...

- Okay, I'll get him for you. - No! No.

That's something I want to do.

Matty?

Matty?

Hey, kiddo.

Hey, Matty!

Matty?

M- Matty, it's Mommy.

Mr. Lehman, you're gonna have to learn to relax, son.

What have you got your panties in such a twist about, anyhow?

You ever arrest anybody...

- you thought was innocent, Mangold? - Nope.

'Course there's no information on Jonathan Devereaux...

that's over three years old.

- Three years ago the guy didn't exist. - So he changed his name.

Lots of folks change their names, Lehman.

- That don't make 'em criminals. - Yeah, but I'm betting...

he changed it from Simon Ryder, and before that, Nick Parsons.

- But you can't prove it. - No.

Hey! Is that long distance?

Bill me.

Lucy, hi. This is Travis. Listen.

I want you to get the D.M.V. To fax me a Washington driver's license...

photograph of one Nicholas Parsons.

I'm at the New Orleans Police Department.

- You better talk to Mr. Carruthers. - Travis!

- His colon is twisted in a knot. - Give me that.

I've had to cover your office for you, Travis.

- Where the hell are you? - Listen to me, Karl.

I think maybe this Parsons woman has been telling the truth.

You're not a law professor anymore, Travis.

You're barely even a parole officer.

- So stop playing Mission Impossible... - All I need...

is a D.M.V. Driver's license photograph of Nicholas Parsons.

You get back here today...

because tomorrow, you're going in front of the Commission.

Karl, I know I'm right.

You give me a chance, okay?

Now, I'm asking you politely.

You send me the goddamn picture!

Hey!

Hey!

It's not him.

See, Lehman, the thing is, every now and again...

we all want to believe in something...

but we just keep forgetting that 99.9 percent of the time...

life just flat don't work out.

I hadn't thought of that, Mangold.

- Thanks. I feel a lot better now. - Any time, Hoss. Any time.

Hold it. Hold it right here.

It's over, Libby.

Oh, Travis.

Messages.

Thank you.

- Mr. Devereaux? - Mr. Lehman.

I'm sorry. This is really not a good time.

I understand.

A lot of people feel that way about me. But I have good news.

- Mm-hmm? - Won't take long.

- Well? - Well...

turns out I owe you an apology, Mr. Devereaux.

After our last conversation I started thinking...

maybe that Parsons woman is telling the truth about who you used to be.

So I asked the Washington State Department of Motor Vehicles...

to send me a driver's license photograph of Nicholas Parsons.

- And? - And this is what came up.

Well...

We all make mistakes. There's no harm done.

Then I thought about it some more, and it occurred to me what a common name...

Nicholas Parsons is.

You know, it turns out there were six.

And this...

was number three.

I never liked that picture.

So, Mr. Lehman, you came here to make a deal...

otherwise, I guess you would have gone straight to the police.

- So, question is, what's your price? - A million dollars.

It's a nice round figure, right?

Uh...

All right. But you're gonna have to give me a couple of days.

No way. One million dollars, right now.

Mr. Lehman, it's 9:00 at night. I can't just...

Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Wait.

I have $100,000 in the safe here.

And you can have that now.

I'll get you the rest tomorrow.

You got a deal.

We do have one other problem, and that's Mrs. Parsons.

She could still make a lot of trouble for us, even from prison...

- and I really don't need that. - I think I've solved that problem.

- What do you mean? - Let's say the problem has been buried.

- Really? - She's gone, I promise you.

You're not very good at keeping promises, Nick.

You gonna do something?

What are you talking to me for? She's the one with the gun.

They're tough in Louisiana, Libby.

You shoot me, they'll give you the gas chamber.

No, they won't.

It's called double jeopardy. I learned a few things in prison, Nick.

I could shoot you in the middle of Mardi Gras and they can't touch me.

As an ex-law professor, I can assure you she is right.

Where's my son?

In St. Albans School in Georgia, all right?

You have your son back. You got what you want.

I haven't felt that good in six years.

I don't want to kill you, Nick.

I just want you to suffer like I suffered.

What she means, Nick, is, you're going to prison...

for murder.

- Who did I supposedly murder? - Me.

- All you've got is an old fax photo. - Which supplies the motive.

Your wife, whom you had framed, tracks you down...

and to keep her from exposing you, you kill her.

You won't get away with it.

Well, I think I've solved that problem.

- What do you mean? - Let's say the problem has been buried.

- Really? - She's gone, I promise you.

Taped confessions are very persuasive in court, Nick...

and of course there is...

the physical evidence that we're gonna put in the trunk of your car.

A shovel, hair, my fingerprints, a little blood.

- Don't forget the gasoline. - It'll look like you burned...

and buried my body just like you say on the tape.

The prosecution rests. You better get out of here.

Nobody wants a dead woman walking around when the police...

are trying to arrest a guy for her murder.

Wait a minute. I'll take that gun.

Well, Lehman, you gonna live?

I doubt it.

Ms. Parsons, since you are still legally his wife...

I expect you just inherited yourself a right fine little hotel here.

Not interested.

I guess I'm gonna take off now.

No. No, you're not. You're a parole violator. You're in my c-custody.

You're going with me to Seattle...

where I will demand a full pardon and a parade...

and a little pink poodle...

on a key chain.

Come on, Ryan, pass it!

What are you waiting for? Go on.

I don't know if I've ever been so scared in my whole life.

I think a big part of me never thought I'd really find him.

What if he doesn't recognize me?

- I mean, maybe after all this time... - Damn, woman!

Because of you, I have lost a perfectly good used car, and a not-so-good job.

If you don't go to this kid right now...

I'm gonna have you arrested for stupidity.

Go on.

Thanks, Lehman.

You saved my life.

You saved mine too.

- Coach Matthews. How you doing? - Nice to meet you.

It'll be halftime soon.

Halftime!

Matty.

Matty.

Hi.

Do you know who I am?

They told me you were dead.

No, sweetheart.